


Juno Steel and the Undercover Vixen

by KikiJ



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Benzaiten is alive, Drug Use, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, False Identity, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Minor Buddy Aurinko/Vespa, Other, Pining, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25814827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiJ/pseuds/KikiJ
Summary: Juno Steel, a police officer in the HCPD, has been tasked with going undercover as a dancer by the name of Dahlia at Valles Vicky's Vixen Valley during the months Vicky is on maternity leave the goal of scoping out the current state of crime there. His team is hoping he can catch the trail of someone who is smuggling weapons in and out of Hyperion City. However, he's sure the assignment has been set up to fail, and perhaps provide an excuse to finally fire him, knowing very well he doesn't have the warm and sensual affect of a typical stripper.Things start to change once he meets a man going by the name of Rose, who makes him feel things, and question his beliefs.Come along, traveler, and find out whether Juno Steel can reconcile what he’s doing with who he wants to be.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Rita & Juno Steel
Comments: 82
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello welcome to my new fic, Juno Steel and the Undercover Vixen. Or, really, Juno Steel as the Undercover Vixen. I have some quick disclaimers! First, the story is mostly from Juno’s perspective, but the first and last chapter are from Peter’s, for funsies. 
> 
> Second, I’ve written Juno’s hair as long, thick and wavy, and not really similar to that of the official art, because I pictured it that way before I saw that design and it stuck. It’s also dyed a very dark red. You’re free to think of his hair as a wig, since it’s styled and coloured for his undercover job. He is also not missing an eye. 
> 
> More importantly, this fic, at some point, will deal with the following things in some capacity: stripping/lap dancing for money, drug use, suicide, and sexual assault. There is explicit sex and implied sex.

Entering the Vixen Valley was like slipping into a well-worn suit, comfortable and familiar, although I hadn’t been here for some years now. Even so, I wasn’t the same person as I was the last time I’d been here. Furthermore, it looked only similar. It was not at all the same; instead, it was ever evolving, just like her patrons. I looked to the crowd, seeing a couple faces I recognized, vaguely, and many more that I didn’t recognize at all. I picked up a drink at the bar and took a seat somewhere in the middle of the room. There were a few people I was looking for in particular, but for now I planned to watch the show.

And what a show it was. I looked up at the main stage, a silver pole erected near the front. I watched a Vixen saunter forward, with long hair of a dark, dark red shade, falling at their shoulders. They were clad in a little black number, their lips painted a deep cherry. Their eyes were bright and their gaze was steady as a they danced.

Rationally, I knew all of the Vixens employed here would be beautiful, yet I was surprised by how striking this particular individual was. Was it how they moved? The hair, the eyes, the outfit? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was, for the duration of their dance, I was completely enthralled, utterly taken by the Vixen.

I thought, perhaps, it was the expression on their face. It was subtle. Once in a while, they would smile, almost suddenly, like they remembered that’s what they’re supposed to do up there. Is it rude to think I preferred it when the Vixen wasn’t smiling?

As soon as the dance was over, I filed all of those thoughts and curiosities away. For future consideration.

As the Vixen left the stage, I shook my head. Once they were gone, my mind was blessedly free to focus on my actual reason for being there. Still, as I surveyed the room, I wasn’t seeing any of the people I wanted to see. So, I got another drink.

Minutes passed, I stood near the bar, chatting idly with a few other patrons, ever the pleasant conversationalist. After that, I wandered back into the crowd, and came across that same damned Vixen from the stage. I couldn’t decide if this was fantastic luck, or terrible. Oh, I could be so easily distracted by a pretty face.

I smiled at them, catching their eye. I know they saw me. They met my gaze, then glanced towards their shoulder, pursed their cherry lips, ran their fingers through their hair. Down here, off the stage, I couldn’t tell their hair was red any longer, it looked black instead. I kept my eyes on them just a moment longer before they trailed over to me and gave me a small smile-nay, a smirk would be the better descriptor.

“Hey there,” they greeted, voice running over me like the silk of their slip dress.

“Hello,” I said. “Who might I have the pleasure of greeting?” I asked, thinking the verbose nature of my statement should come across as charming, friendly.

“Dahlia,” they said, one hand holding an elbow and the other hand hanging between us. I took their hand and lifted it to my lips, watching Dahlia’s eye for a reaction. They smirked again. “Charmed, I’m sure,” they said, and I grinned and gently dropped their hand.

“Indeed, I am,” I told them. It was honest.

“Well, if you’re going to kiss his hand, you might consider buying a lady a drink, Mr…,” Dahlia crossed an arm again, the hand I’d just kissed coming up to play with the strap of the dress he was wearing.

“Call me Rose,” I said, and Dahlia nodded. “And certainly,” I said, and stepped back as I gestured towards the bar and he stepped forward. I ghosted my hand on the small of his back, intending not to be overly touchy. It was not respectful to manhandle the Vixens, or, for that matter, any of the dancers at any place such as this.

“Hey Dahl,” the bartender greeted. “Your usual?”

“Please?” Dahlia smiled, seemingly the most genuine since I’d met him. He was leaning forward over the bar, one knee bent to give a very nice view of his back and rear end. It was practiced and poised, meant to be alluring, and it was. But, there was a stiffness to the pose that was hard for a man such as myself to miss. Of course, it might be obvious to others as well, but I knew that reading the body language of everyone around you wasn’t a habit everyone had. Either he was uncomfortable, or new at this, or both.

I ordered the same thing I’d been drinking earlier and watched as a glass of whiskey was set in front of Dahlia. An indelicate drink for a Vixen such as the lady standing in front of me, but this Vixen wasn’t like the others. That much was apparent just by looking at him. 

“Cheers,” I said, and Dahlia lifted his glass, clinking it.

“Thank you,” Dahlia said. He didn’t try to talk to me, not right away. Instead, his eyes were flitting, from one side of the room to the next, and back to my face every once in a while. Another tick in the box of my assessment of him. He must be new, or nervous. Of course, the one went well with the other.

Dahlia looked down, brushing his hand against the hem of the dress he was wearing. It reached his thigh but not much lower. He looked back up at me and flashed another little smirk, which I returned.

“How long have you been working here?” I couldn’t help myself. I was nearly certain my theory was correct, certain enough that I didn’t _need_ to know for sure, not strictly, but I wanted to. Even more, I wanted to hear his voice again.

“Oh,” Dahlia said, as if that wasn’t what he expected to hear. “Um, not too long,” he winced just for a moment then masked his face with nonchalance, flipping his hair over his shoulder and taking a long, smooth drink from his glass. It was at half of what it had been.

“Don’t worry, darling. It’s not that you’re _that_ easy to pin down,” I said, “I’ve been told by many people that I’m… overly observant.”

“Right,” Dahlia said, and smiled again. “You, uh, you are right. I’ve only been working here for a month or so,” he said.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. You are _very_ good at dancing,” I said, and he laughed, plucking a piece of hair from behind his ear to twirl it once before smoothing it back behind his ear again.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Do you like it? Working here, that is,” I asked, glancing over his shoulder subtly. I thought, for a moment, that I’d seen one of the people I was looking for. I was mistaken, so I looked back at the Vixen in front of me.

“I do, actually,” Dahlia said. “I run into all sorts of interesting characters,” he said, looking down at his drink. He raised his eyes to mine again, and went on, “I like getting to know people,” he said, voice quiet, lips smiling, saying it like it was a secret.

“Well, this is an excellent line of work for that,” I told him, and he nodded.

“It’s fun, too,” Dahlia added, and that was about it. He sipped his drink again. It was almost gone. Once it was gone, our time together would end as well, unless I was planning on paying for a private dance. Deep within me, I knew I wanted to, but there were more important matters at hand. Business first, fun later.

“I’m glad to hear,” I told him, sincerely. He smiled and finished his drink.

It was perfect timing, honestly. It turned out the person I thought was the person I wanted, and then wasn’t who I thought I wanted, _was_ the person I wanted.

“Well, thank you for the drink,” Dahlia said, setting his glass down, “and the conversation,” he went on. I smiled. “I should probably get back out on the floor, unless… you’d like my undivided attention, elsewhere?” Dahlia looked me up and down, slowly. The look did something to me, but I filed _that_ away for future consideration. Hopefully not too long into the future, thought. I _would_ like a dance, from him.

“Thank _you_ darling. I would love to ask you for a dance, however,” I glanced over his shoulder, “I have some business to attend to with an old friend of mine. How’s about this? I’ll find you later on,” I said, squeezing his arm once, finding it surprisingly toned, then quickly reminding myself pole dancing was an incredibly athletic feat so… duh.

“Sure thing, Rose,” Dahlia nodded, going to brush a hair that wasn’t askew back behind his ear before quickly darting off into the crowd. I knew I needed to catch my ‘old friend’ soon, but I couldn’t resist watching the Vixen go.

His walk was confident, if involving less swaying of the hips than would be typical of the dancers at establishments such as this. It, like everything else about Dahlia, intrigued me. I filed that away, too, right beside all my musing about why I liked watching him dance so much. For future consideration. Then, I turned, and pursued the person I was here to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit more about the warnings above, if you're curious. 
> 
> Let it be known, I have never been a stripper. I've never been in a strip club, but the setting deeply intrigues me for fictional stories. Most of my info comes from reading online articles that showcase interviews with people in the profession. As well, this takes place many years in the future, so standards may not be the exact same as they are now, and I’m using that to take liberties with the club (and, also. the way the HCPD works because I similarly know little about the intricacies of law enforcement… even so, #DefundThePolice) 
> 
> As well, I haven’t had any experience with drugs outside of weed and alcohol. I decided to invent the two drugs referred to later on in the fic, Star Candy and Stash, and their effects are described sort of vaguely. 
> 
> Consider yourself warned for all of these things!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this story as it's uploaded, please note that I made a mistake and I skipped uploading the entire second chapter (which seems to happen to me every time I upload a fic to this godforsaken website??) so..... yeah. This current chapter was previous unreleased!

The man with the beautiful eyes and sharp teeth did not, in fact, find me again. I didn’t let it sting. There were plenty men who were and weren’t interested in me around here. Not that that had _anything_ to do with what I was here to do. I didn’t care if I was actually an object of their affections, so long as I could listen in on conversations and find out what I needed to find out by the end of all this.

I knew this job wasn’t going to be easy when it was assigned, but I was damn well determined to make it go my way. My name is Juno Steel and I’m an HCPD officer undercover as a stripper at Vixen Valley. Or, sorry, a _Vixen_ at Vixen Valley.

I know, I know. It’s hard to believe. Of course, the profession isn’t illegal, but places like these are a hub for criminal activity… and that’s exactly why I’m here. The higher ups thought it was genius, send in an officer to pose as a pretty face and try to find out about the networks of crime, pull at the threads until something big came up. There was a specific tip that there might be a weapons dealer around here, and that was enough to get them to assign this downright ridiculous role to me.

It only helped that Valles Vicky herself wasn’t around to watch her Vixens like a hawk, being on maternity leave as she was. It was the perfect time for such a plan.

The way my superiors saw it, I’d either find something good and bust someone big for major weapons dealing, possibly human trafficking, or… I’d fall flat on my face, get busted by the criminals instead, and they’d have an excuse to finally fire me from the force.

Starting out, I would have said my chances were 80-20 that I’d get fuck up and get fired. It was really touch and go at first. I’m not exactly stripper material, here. I may be a lovely lady, sure; but _ladylike,_ I am not.

It took a lot of effort to prepare myself, even before I set foot in the club. Weeks of dance lessons, plus extra time spent with my brother as he helped me with my ‘form’. I’d never been so sore in my life.

Even so, it was secretly thrilling when I climbed that pole successfully.

On that, Benzaiten had always told me pole dancing was a fun hobby. I told him anyone who willingly whipped themselves around a metal pole in high heels was a glutton for punishment, and he told me that, in that case, it sounded right up my alley.

I had to admit, he had a point.

On the other side of things, Rita, my favourite of the precinct’s office assistants, was having a field day. She got to help put together the outfits I wore. She also declared herself in charge of helping me with my hair. It was dyed red, and she helped me figure out a few styles than I was used to that I could wear at the club. They were more femme than I was used to, but that part was sort of fun, some of the time anyway. 

The only real makeup looks I’d previously mastered was a smoky eye, a couple grungy, smudgy looks that went well with my general disposition. Previously, I’d only worn lipsticks on special occasions. But through trial and error, Rita and I figured out how to do a full face that would last the night on the floor and effectively cover the nicks and scars I had amassed from my years on the force and before then.

The hair and makeup pretty concealed my identity pretty effectively, blending into my natural skintone and changing the look of my face. The first few nights, I hardly recognized myself.

Last, I had to pick a name, like the rest of the Vixens. Dahlia was what I settled on. Simple, straightforward, no relation to my real name. It was good enough, and led to people calling me something that sounded like “Doll”, which was more enjoyable than it ought to be. Who ever said a lady couldn’t like to feel special once in a while, even if he was neck deep in a risky ruse he was woefully unsuited for?

Speaking of. I wasn’t particularly great at this job, yet, at the same time, I was a lot less terrible than expected. I didn’t think I’d last a week, let alone a month in this place. I was so sure the first shady character I met would take one look at me and scream THAT’S A COP, but it never happened.

That Rose person was one of the first to truly call me on my anxiety since the first week. The first couple days I got a lot of “You alright, lady? Awh, don’t be nervous, I won’t hurt ya. And, You’ll get used to it, Dahl”, stuff like that. Since then, though, most of the patrons have treated me like any of other Vixen, if they paid me any mind at all.

That being said, there was a pretty distinct pattern of the clients who were partial to me. Of course, there were also outliers.

Most of the other Vixens were much more forward, charming, and flirty than I was. I tried to flirt, but I could never keep it up for long before I fumbled or said something stupid. So, instead, I remained aloof, hooked them with a smile, and usually waited for the patrons to come to me.

It worked better than I’d hoped, but, as I mentioned, I was attracting a particular sort of people. The ones who liked me _liked_ how standoffish I was, they’d say I seemed “less fake”, as if I was being paid any less than any of the other Vixens here. They wanted me disinterested until I wasn’t anymore, until I was alone and they had that _undivided attention_ of mine. It was like it meant more, because I didn’t give it up just as quick as the others. That’s what I believed, anyway.

I wasn’t sure whether Rose fit in the aforementioned pattern. He had been watching me, as the clients often do, I assume to try to read me. His assessment wasn’t particularly wrong, just incomplete. Of course, if he had guessed I was a cop, whether he was my usual type of client would be my last worry.

So, I was specifically _not_ disappointed when I didn’t catch him again before the end of the night. Maybe he was just full of shit, nice enough, but he didn’t want to pay up. Maybe he _couldn’t_ pay up, waltzing in with those nice clothes, that smile, his beautiful cologne, and not a spare cred to his name. He did say he was here for some ‘business' with an old friend.

And there it was. My good, valid reason for being fixated on Rose. It wasn’t about feeling slighted that he hadn’t spent more time or creds on me, but the fact that he was a suspicious character. He was chivalrous, (thankfully not unheard of in this place), poised, and, most importantly, _calculating_.

I could tell that much from his accurate-enough assessment of me. The fact he so easily revealed that aspect of himself to me made me think he didn’t suspect that I might be untrustworthy. That was exactly the type of man I was interested in getting to know better. 

So, as I walked home in my shoes and a newer, nicer trench coat than the one I usually wore, my feet screaming praise that I was finally out of those blasted heels I had to wear, I hoped, quietly, to myself, that I might see Rose again sometime. For the assignment, of course.

\--

“MISTAH STEEL,” I heard as I lifted my comms the next morning. Well, I thought it was morning, but it was entirely possible it might be the afternoon. I groaned, loudly.

“What, Rita?” I said.

“Good afternoon to you, too, boss,” Rita snipped with no malice. I groaned again.

She’d taken to calling me boss some time ago, an no matter how many times I told her I wasn’t her boss, she just insisted she hated calling me “Officer”. I didn’t particularly like being called that either, which might have been telling. 

“Hey hi how are you? Thanks, I’m good too. What do you _want_ Rita?” I snarked, tone harsher than it ought to be.

“Mistah Steel,” she was nonplussed by my rude tone, “I’m just calling to remind you about your appointment later today,” Rita chirped.

“What appointment?” I asked.

“You’ve got a groomin’ day scheduled with your brother, y’know, facials, massage, waxin’,” Rita trailed on and I muttered,

“Fuck.”

Grooming days, or as he called them, ‘spa’ days were, of course, Benzaiten’s idea. He was all, “if you’re gonna be a Vixen you have _got_ to take care of your appearance. It will A) help you get into the role, put you into the mindset of a true beauty queen and B) make you look better, which is a huge aspect of being a Vixen. Besides, you get to keep all those creds you’re raking in at your new job, what better to spend them on than a proper pampering, Juno!”

Yet another of my brother’s ideas I would never admit have _some_ merit to them. The massages were nice, facials were fine, and my skin did look marginally better than it did before. Well, probably. Maybe I just paid more attention now. However, the _waxing_ … I was not a fan of. I saw his point, and the rest of the Vixen’s have extremely “well-groomed” hair, so I guess I should too, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

“Dammit,” I added a moment later as Rita finished up explaining the things I’d have done. Apparently my nails would be needing a ‘fill’ at this point, whatever that meant. 

I stretched out my hand and looked at the stupidly sharp, matte black claws that I had slowly gotten used to over the past month or so. I was no longer stabbing myself when I went to rub my eyes in the morning, so that was something.

Rita was telling me I ought to consider a ‘more fun’ colour this time, and I rolled my eyes.

“They don’t have to bright pink or anything, though that would be _so much fun_ , but maybe a deep wine color! Or, or, you could get an accent nail, bright purple!”

“Yeaaah I’m probably just going to get black. Or red, I guess,” I said.

“Ooh _red_ , yes! What shade?”

“Uh. Dark,” I said. And she squee’d, like that was a good answer, so I smiled just a little.

“Like your hair! I love it, Mistah Steel. Y’know, I was watching a movie the other day and ever since you started this assignment, I’ve been paying way more attention to the nails of the stars! I was thinking, we might have to work up to it, but _glitter_ nails would just look so good! It’s totally on trend, or, at least, it was whenever this movie was made, but, we could bring it back-“

“Uh huh. Okay, Rita, if I’m gonna make it to the appointment I’m gonna have to get out of bed at some point.”

“You’re still _in bed?_ ” came her shriek. I huffed.

“You woke me up, Rita. I’m up until like 3am most nights, for God’s sake.”

“Right, of course. Well then you better be ske-daddling then, boss. I won’t keep you any longer!” she said.

It was another ten minutes before she let me go, but I’d managed to get out of bed and put on my clothes in that time.

It felt weird, now, looking at my reflection in my poorly lit bathroom when I had become used to the theatre mirrors at Vixen Valley, but I paid no mind.

I ate something small, brushed my teeth, and picked up a coffee on the way to the spa. It wasn’t exactly a high-end place, but it wasn’t too crummy either. I may have been making more creds than I was used to, but I didn’t care to blow it all on pampering alone.

Ben was standing in the waiting room when I saw him. Obviously, my twin brother and I looked incredibly alike. Still, even before my hair was dark red, his hair was shorter than mine, and his smile might have been brighter, which set us apart. Or maybe it was his eyes that were brighter, since I was damn sure we had the exact same smile.

“Juno!” I heard, walking up to him. I accepted the embrace and shoulder clap he offered me. 

“Benzaiten,” I replied, shaking out my hair as I step back again. I brushed it before I left, but I knew it was windswept and dishevelled by then.

We checked in and were ushered into big comfortable chairs where attendants start filing our nails. Of course, Ben asked me what I was having done.

“Uh,” I started. “Probably the same thing. Maybe dark red instead of black? I sort of like them pointy, except for every time I stab myself, which happens several times a day. They come in handy when a _client_ gets a bit too friendly, though.”

Ben laughed, but there was a tightness in his eyes. He hated to hear about the handsy clients, but not as much as I hated having to deal with them. “Oh, I’d bet,” he said. Then he tilted his head, “You having fun, yet? Gross pervs aside, I mean.”

I loved my brother, but that didn’t mean I wanted to give him an ounce of satisfaction, so I pressed my lips together. “It’s a job, it’s not supposed to be fun.”

“I have fun at my job,” Ben pointed out. I rolled my eyes.

“You’re an _artist_ , of course you have fun. Some of us have more serious professions,” I said with an air of dignity we both knew I didn’t actually have.

“Hey, I suffer for my art like all great creatives do. That doesn’t mean I hate every second of every day, though.”

I sighed. Benzaiten had been trying to get me to quit my job for years because “it made me miserable”. So what? I was certain I would be miserable regardless; I might as well be miserable and _try_ to make a difference.

Not that I thought it was the only way to make a difference, just the only way I knew how. I had seen Ben dance, had seen the joy he exuded and spread to others. What he did mattered, I knew that.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, and he dropped it, going on to explain that he’s probably going to keep his nails short and natural because they’re easier to maintain that way. I wished I could go for something low maintenance, but it wouldn’t be on brand for my Vixen persona.

We were handed keyrings with a bunch of nail colours on them and I pick out a dark burgundy shade and tell them to keep the same shape as before.

Our chitchat was cut off anyway once they start some sort of exfoliating treatment on our faces, doing both at once to save time I assume.

By the time we could talk again, a cool mask was applied to my face, and my brother’s. 

“Maybe if they leave these on long enough, those bags under your eyes might let up,” Ben teased, and I scoffed at him.

“Hm, y’know, that job of mine you’re so fond of routinely keeps me up until early hours in the morning… it’s hard to imagine why I’d have dark circles, under those circumstances.”

It was his turn to scoff. “Please, Juno. Those have been there for _years_. Your new job has nothing to do with it.”

“Then I think it’d take something a lot stronger than a mask to get rid of them,” I reasoned.

“You got me there. Well, they might be out of place as a Vixen, but at least they go with your regular long-suffering law officer aesthetic, hm?”

“Shut up, Benten,” I snapped at him. He laughed at me. “You act like we don’t have the same face, I swear.”

“Hey, I’m only concerned for your face because it reminds me so much of my own,” he said. “Hate to see the beauty ill-maintained.”

Naturally, I knew his vain comments about the bags under my eyes were another jab at my job and, well, my lifestyle in general. It was not about my looks. But, it was easier to dispute the latter than the former. It felt more safe, too.

Our chatter was more innocent in nature for the rest of the face and nails portion of our appointment, with Ben telling me about a new book series that he loved so much. I agreed to borrow the book from him and resolved to listen to the auditory version of it when I was getting ready before the club because I was a good brother _sometimes_ , dammit. I could be, anyway.

I was left with freshly sharpened claws, and my brother with sensible rounded nails. It was a certain sort of poetic, given our respective personalities, as well as outlook on life.

After that, we were split up for massages. They were by far my favourite part. Then, the dreaded fucking _waxing_. The one saving grace was that Vixen Valley was a ‘bottom’s stay on’ club and I didn’t feel pressured to get rid of _everything_ in the so-called ‘bathing suit’ area. Thank God. 

After that, we met up and sat in a room in fluffy robes to get a final face treatment. If pressed, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the one at the start and the one at the end.

I had a sour look on my face and the nice lady who was working on me seemed to be trying to rub the lines on my forehead out of existence. I looked at Ben out of the corner of my eye and saw his glee, which only made me scowl more deeply.

“I really like the hairband, it’s a cute look, Juno,” Ben observed.

“Noted,” I told him. Once my face was no longer having lotion applied to it aggressively, I looked in the mirror. There was a fluffy lilac hairband keeping my hair out of my face. I made a little noise of amusement.

“Really though, I swear this is last time I’ll ask, but… how’s the job going, Juno?”

The shift in his voice was impossible to miss. I took in a deep breath through my nose.

“It’s fine. Nothing of great interest yet, though I met someone last night who I think might be… promising,” I said. Ben smiled.

“Good. The other Vixens treating you well?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “They’re a nice group.”

“That’s good,” he repeated.

I hated the look of genuine concern on his face. I wanted to snap at him about how _fine_ I’m doing, but that wouldn’t be helpful. So, I sighed again, ever irritable, and said, “Yeah. I’m hopeful about this guy, or, at least, the maybe guy he was looking to talk to. Obviously, I can’t get into many details, you understand.” I couldn’t get into details because I had none, but Benten didn’t need to know that.

“Of course, of course. That’s good, Juno.”

“So, uh. How’s _your_ job?” I asked, lackluster. Thankfully, he launched into a detailed explanation of what’d been going on with him, whether the issue the studio had been having was resolved, the new show they were doing, and so on. It was good to just sit and listen to Ben for a bit.

He finished up talking around the time our appointment ended, allowed to go back and change into our clothes. My skin was still angry in all of the places the cursed _wax_ had been applied. Otherwise, I was feeling begrudgingly refreshed.

Spa days were never on days when I had work, I couldn’t put my body through that _plus_ dancing in heels. I simply wasn’t strong enough for that. Or, at least, with enough forethought I didn’t have the mental fortitude to put myself through that, because I was sure I had been in at least as much pain at some point before, but only in more dire situations.

So, my brother and I parted ways and I headed off to grab a drink with Mick Mercury.

Nobody was supposed to know about my assignment, except the people I worked with. I personally made an extra exception for Ben, but I’d sooner die than explain to Mick my fancy new hair and nails.

Lucky for me, Mick had only ever bothered to compliment me on them and ask if I was seeing someone new finally, and when I answered with a firm “no” he didn’t pursue another line of questioning. 

Shortly after arriving home, I got accosted by and roped into watching a movie with Rita, but only after we took down any notes from last night. I didn’t bother pointing out we were both off the clock and should probably do this at the office.

I told her about Rose, wrote down his name on a note and added it to a wall, classic investigation style. We kept a digital version, too, which she would update tomorrow. I liked the paper version better.

By the time she left, I was still in bed long before any club night. I was exhausted from the long day and amount of social interaction I’d endured.

When my head hit the pillow, thoughts of a sharp smile and bright eyes swam into my mind. I did my best to ignore them until I fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this story as it's uploaded, please note that I made a mistake and I skipped uploading the entire second chapter (which seems to happen to me every time I upload a fic to this godforsaken website??) so, this chapter was previously in the second chapter spot. Oops!!!

About a week had gone by before I saw him again. Rose, that is. However, by the time I saw him, I was already pursuing someone else.

I didn’t know what was more suspicious to me, patrons who were in the same time each week, or patrons who were there every week, but never on the same day. Maybe neither was more suspicious than the other.

Wrendle Marr had been at Vixen Valley at least four times since I started working there, perhaps more. He was a big guy, broad shoulders, genuine smile. _He_ was one of the men who outright told me he liked that I acted disinterested, thought it was charming. He said it was bold to not play the same game as everyone else in the damn club. He had a loud laugh and sparkling eyes.

He came across as good-natured and fun-loving. He _could_ be the exact sort of guy involved in shadier than shady business, all charisma and teeth. Like Rose.

“One minute, Dahl,” he was saying, and I was smiling. He clapped me on the shoulder like I was participating in a sport and then stalked away to my right.

So much for that. And, when I looked over, Rose was no longer there, either. Well, fuck.

There was a big guy sitting alone on one of the many couches in the room, so I made my way towards him. There was a table in front of the couch, but it wasn't one of the ones with a pole embedded in it. I was glad for that. I didn't mind dancing on stage, but dancing for small groups was somehow much more intimidating. 

Speaking of intimidating... the Big Guy's expression was unreadable, and I’d never seen him before. An unreadable expression was a decent enough reason to try to talk him up, so I smiled and asked,

“Is this seat taken?” and gestured towards the seat across from him. 

“No, it is not,” he said.

I sat, twirling my hair, wishing I had a drink. I’d been bought one earlier, but I always tried to enjoy it with the patron that purchased it for me, y’know, courtesy and whatnot. And I tried not to sink too many of my own creds on the job.

The man said nothing, and, after a few glances, I noticed he wasn’t even looking at me. God, the number this job was doing both on and for my self-esteem.

“Hey,” I tried after a bit. “You having a good time, Big Guy?” I asked, forcing myself not to wince at my, frankly, abrasive tone. God, I sucked at this.

“I am,” the man said, “thank you.” And that was it. I pursed my lips as he looked away again.

“Mhmm,” I said, looking him up and down. He wasn’t bad to look at, clearly tall even when seated. Most of the time, I didn’t actually _want_ to give private dances, because it was, frankly, awkward as hell. Even then, I didn’t _want_ to have to climb into his lap-well. Not in the current context, I didn’t, because it was weird to dance for strangers and talk to them and listen to their problems, it was hard on the body, hard on the psyche, and it wasn’t what I signed up to do when I became a _cop,_ Goddammit.

Naturally, he caught me staring at him and perked a slight brow, so I looked away suddenly, a pout still on my expertly painted lips. They were a deep purple-red that Rita adored, complimenting my nails and hair to create a cohesive ensemble. 

Big Guy cleared his throat and I glanced back more slowly, hoping that playing the moody lady in dark colours didn’t come across as insulting to him.

“You’re very pretty,” he started bluntly, and I blinked. It wasn’t the first compliment I’d received, obviously, but his forward tone caught me off guard.

“Uh, thanks.”

“And I don’t mean to insult you at all, but I’m not interested in any dance, or private conversation. With you, or with any other Vixens. I hope you understand,” the man said. I blinked again.

“Right, no, um, that’s okay,” I stammered, like an idiot. I’ve developed a few scripts, but this man and his blunt nature were nowhere near any of them. I breathed in slowly, “I’m not insulted, Big Guy, don’t worry.”

“I’d like to buy you a drink, if you’re agreeable,” he said, as if trying to console me for his _not_ wanting a lap dance. He seemed sweet and I liked that. But, I’d honestly rather get out of there, and perhaps stick my head in a bucket of cold water to put an end to the stupid heat in my face. Maybe I’d leave my head there a while.

No such luck for the likes of Juno Steel. Or, Dahlia, I guess.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I heard, and looked over my shoulder, but I knew that voice. It had been running through my head enough lately.

Rose smiled at me, and Big Guy said, “Not at all.” I listened for sheer relief in his voice, but it just sounded pleasant and matter of fact.

“Didn’t think so,” Rose murmured as I accepted his hand and stood, before I even realized it. I almost wobbled on my damn heels. Despite being able to dance in them, I couldn’t very well stand, could I? Wouldn’t want to appear competent lest I fool someone, right?

Every bit my savior and a gentleman, Rose guided me towards the bar. “I do hope you’re not cross that I ended up being pulled away the other night,” he was telling me. I could smell his cologne, it was an enticing scent, distinct.

I was unsure if I should play nice or moody. Although moody came easier, nice was generally a safer bet. Both here, and everywhere else. So, I picked nice, and said, “Of course not.”

Then, I pressed my lips together and leaned against a stool at the bar, and added, “You’ll just have to make it up to me, Mr.”

He smiled at me and it felt like picking the right dialogue option in one of those video games I watched Rita play. “Indeed I will, Dahlia,” he said, and I wondered if I should say his name back. We’d only met once, so perhaps I should pretend I forgot it. It wasn’t like the goal was to _actually_ flatter him and make him feel special long enough to pay me for a dance, like it would be if I were a regular Vixen.

I was handed a drink and sipped it as I weighed my options, drumming my sharp nails on the bar. Would it be weirder if I did or didn’t remember his name? After all, I met countless people each night, and I was discerning when it came to who I bothered to take too many notes of.

I glanced over and Rose was looking out at the crowd. When he looked back, I looked away, but much more smoothly than I’d done earlier. It was one of my aloof, moody-lady moves, and I was glad to actually pull it off this time. It felt like a modicum of redemption from the trainwreck earlier. 

“Cred for your thoughts,” he said, his shoulder brushing against mine as he leaned in conspiratorially.

I pressed my lips together. For an undercover cop, lying wasn’t exactly my _forte_. I did much better with half truths. “It’s, um, Mr Ruby, right? Or, no, um,” I stammered, for once in my life faking it. I looked down, “Rose? Or, no, Rain, or.. Sorry!” I chuckled, looking away, like I genuinely felt bad for forgetting his name.

“Rose,” he confirmed, and I looked up at him. He didn’t seem mad or annoyed. If anything, he seemed amused. Perhaps intrigued. _Gotcha_ , I thought.

“Right. I got it, technically,” I said, biting my lip once. “I meet a lot of people,” I explained, pressing my lips together.

“Of course, of course, darling. I don’t fault you that,” he said and I nodded, murmuring “good”. I sipped my drink and felt much too pleased at pulling off what was, ultimately, not all that high-stakes of a ruse.

I watched him for a moment, watched as he looked across the crowd, like I often did myself. I wondered if he had another “old friend” to meet tonight or if he actually planned on paying me for some alone time. Again, it wasn’t like I really _wanted_ to give him a lap dance. Not like this, anyway, the thought crossed my mind, even though I didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

I sipped my drink and glanced over, seeing Wrendle again. I looked back at Rose, and held his gaze for a moment when he looked at me before looking away.

“Dahlia, darling,” he said, just as I finished my drink.

“Rose,” I countered, smiling and tilting my head slowly as I saw the other Vixens do from time to time.

“Would you like to accompany somewhere a bit more… private?” he asked. I nodded. Maybe he wasn’t a cheap, distracted bastard after all.

“Oh, I know just the place,” I teased, and he laughed. It was a nice sound. I took his hand and led him towards the back of the room where there were private booths with curtains that snapped shut and muffled most of the noise from the club.

There were guards stationed every few booths, standing tall and ready to assist any Vixen who needed it. There were rules posted both inside and outside of the booths. Touching was limited to the exact spots Vixens allowed, or not at all. There was to be no kissing, no skipping out on payment, and any Vixen could refuse or revoke agreement at any time, no questions asked. There were several panic buttons in the booths to be pressed at any time.

Once inside the booth, on the wall next to the rules, there was a music selector. The play button was right next to the little couch the client would sit on. Once the curtain clicked shut, it played soft sensual music until a song was selected.

“Any song preference? And how many?” I asked as Rose took a seat. The lighting was dim, but enough to see each other with relative clarity. I wondered if he would be a talker or not.

“Whatever you like, Dahlia,” he said. “Two,” he said. I nodded and selected the songs I was best at, most comfortable with. The first was a fast-paced song, the second slower.

This was, by far, the most difficult part of this stupid assignment. Dancing on stage, even undressing on stage, was okay. It was fine. Being alone with an attractive man and climbing into his lap? It was awkward, it was weird, and I didn’t like it much.

I braced myself and made a backet with my hands on my hips, saying, “You’re allowed to touch me here, on either side.” I showed the same area on my other side, making a box, “nowhere else. Got it?”

“Of course,” Rose said. I nodded, then hit play on the music.

I hated it. Or, I wanted to hate it. In a way, it was still sort of fun, like pole dancing was honestly sort of fun. Some clients made me hate it more than others, obviously the grabby ones put a sour taste in my mouth. The first time it happened, that sour taste was my own blood from biting my cheek in surprise and humiliation.

I prayed Rose wouldn’t be like that. I began my dance and his eyes roamed my body, but focused on my face. I did my best to make put on a pleasant, sultry expression. It was easier to smile, looking at him. When I got close, he put his hands exactly where I’d told him he was allowed, no further. I got closer still and he smiled up at me, it played at his lips.

I touched his chest, then clung to his shoulders as the dance continued. His hands shifted ever so slightly, but never out of the allowed range. I was always hyper aware of that, the exact location I’d allowed myself to be touched, eager to know whether the client would obey or not, and which ones it would be that disobeyed. Maybe it was my own fucked up way to control, or at least evaluate the situation, something concrete I could tally, rely on. I didn’t know.

The first dance moved on to the second and it involved switching my position to face away from him. I wondered if, now that I was looking away, if he was looking at my body more, or if he’d rather shut his eyes and imagine my face.

He didn’t talk, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. It was almost less awkward when talking was involved. On the other hand, talking was risky, because I was stupid and bad at flirting. So, it was probably for the best he was the silent type.

Once the music stopped, I stepped back from him. There was a little table on opposite of the door, with a system to allow clients to transfer the payment. He smiled and got up to do so.

“Thank you,” he said, “you’re a beautiful dancer, Dahlia.”

“Thanks,” I said, pressing my lips together. It was nice to be complimented, despite everything. 

Stepping out of the private dance room and into the club was like getting hit by a freight train. It was so loud and disorienting it made my head spin. Just another perk of the job.

“Until we meet again, darling,” Rose said, and I smiled.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” I said, because that was the sort of line clients liked to hear. I might have meant it, though. He was very attractive, after all. Rose chuckled lightly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he kissed my hand. As he looked out to the crowd, I noticed him noticing someone else. I couldn’t tell who, though. He nodded once more and started to depart.

As I walked away, I decided to try to find a place to watch Rose. I wanted to get a glimpse of who it was he saw. I glanced over and tried to keep my eyes on his figure, but I was soon stopped short by a tall man putting his hands on my shoulder.

“Uh,” I said, and looked up. It was not Big Guy, unfortunately. This guy had blond hair, and a lopsided smile.

“Look out there, little lady. We almost crashed courses,” he said.

“Sorry,” I said, lifting a hand to brush on the choker necklace I had on, then up to my ear. There was a small camera in the cuff I wore on my right ear, near the hair I so frequently played with. A simple brush was all it needed to activate and take a photograph. The pictures weren’t fantastic, but they were enough to keep track of the people I came across. He was so damn tall, though, I wasn’t sure if it would get anything but his chest.

“No worries,” he said, “it’d be wise to keep your eyes ahead of you next time, hm?” and then he manhandled me to the side so he could step by.

“Right,” I deadpanned, forgetting my manners for a second. He stalked away without paying any more mind, though, and by the time I glanced around myself I found no sight of Rose. Tonight just wasn’t my night.

Or, so I thought. That was until I spotted Wrendle at the very same couch I’d left Big Guy on.

There was a third person there, now, an older woman with long, bright red hair that was covering half her face. She was truly a sight to behold.

I got a bit closer but remained as out of sight as possible, hoping to listen in to what they were talking about. My black stud earrings helped to tune into speech and tune out music, but they weren’t magic or anything.

“I would like to discuss what I’ve come here for,” I heard a feminine voice say. It must have been Redhead talking.

“In due time, in due time,” I heard Wrendle say. “Relax, Bud.”

“I would love to relax! If you could just tell me who your contact is-” she said, tone eager and friendly.

“I told ya, he doesn’t want his name dropped all around. I don’t know why he’s so uptight, and I’m not about to ask, but I just try to keep my friends happy. You know that, Bud.”

“Of course. And I’m your friend, Wrendle, aren’t I?” the voice was pleasant, but I could imagine her pouting.

“You are, Buddy,” Wrendle said. I could practically hear the frown in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“Well I suppose… You do know we can’t _talk_ here,” Redhead said. Then, she sighed, “Honestly, you’d think you’d never done any of this before.”

“I’m _rusty_ , what can I say? Besides, this place is _fine_ , it’s Valles Vicky’s!”

“It simply won’t do. If you would just tell me,” Redhead repeated, more urgently this time.

“No can do, Bud. Look, I love ya, and I’d love to help you more, but all I can promise is you’ll get an introduction tonight. I can make sure it’s in a private place, once we get back to the hotel, but that’s all I can guarantee.”

“I see.”

“Don’t be mad, Bud.”

“I’m not,” she said, and it sounded like she meant it.

“Just disappointed?” Wrendle laughed, and she laughed just a bit along with him.

I figured I’d probably gotten everything I’d get out of that, but it felt like a breakthrough nonetheless. The woman was clearly involved in something, and Wrendle too, even if he wasn’t in the know. Of course, that could be a lie, he might know more than he let on. But, my instincts had been right about Wrendle Marr being of interest, dammit, and that was a win.

Thinking I’d stayed my welcome, I started to walk away. Evidently, I walked just a bit too close, because I heard,

“Dahlia, come, have a drink!”

It was Wrendle’s voice. I hoped that the direction I’d came from wasn’t too obviously right behind them.

He was waving me over, so I steadied my expression and walked towards him.

“Or, if you’re interested in something stronger,” Wrendle gestured towards a low table between himself and the couch that sat Redhead and Big Guy said, and I looked down. My stomach dropped. It really _was_ not my night. 

I saw a small assortment of drugs, including the one that I’d finally kicked about a year ago now. I’d seen the other Vixens getting high in our dressing room, a couple of them snorting stuff with patrons, but I had avoided as much myself. So far. 

“How generous,” I said flatly. He waved me closer, so I sat down next to him. Big Guy looked about as uncomfortable as I felt for a moment, but his expression smoothed out a beat later. Now that I’d noticed the tenseness of his eyes, though, it was impossible to unsee.

“I like you, kid, you know that,” Wrendle said. “These are some of my friends,” he gestured to Big Guy, and the woman with striking red hair. It was much brighter than the shade I had. “This is the gal I told you about, Bud,” he said, “he’s got a real personality!”

“I’m sure,” the Redhead woman said, smiling pleasantly.

“So, what’ll it be, Dahlia?” Wrendle nodded towards the stuff on the table. “It’s on me, of course.”

“Oh, um,” I said, looking down. I should have definitely just plucked a shot and left it at that.

“Don’t you be pressuring him, Wren,” Redhead chastised. “Not everyone has your tolerance for… fun,” she said. Observant, this one. Or maybe I was just easy to read.

“I’m not, I’m not,” Wrendle put his hands up. “Oh! I almost forgot,” he rummaged in his pockets and dropped some star candies in little baggies on the table, “here, if this is more your speed.”

I pursued my lips. I was familiar with these too, but I’d never had a problem with them before, unlike, well, most of what he was offering. I’d been off everything, save for liquor, since my last big stint. But… it wasn’t like it was on my dime, and it seemed much lower risk than the other options. I plucked a star candy from the table and smiled cooly.

“It’d be awfully rude to refuse a gift,” I said, and Wrendle laughed joyously.

“You needn’t indulge him, darling,” Redhead said. “He does that just fine on his own.”

“Oh, I would never,” I said, crossing my legs on the couch, sitting up properly. Wrendle barked another laugh.

“See what I’m saying? This one has a tongue on him,” he eyed me like I was one of the candies on the table and my stomach did a little flip. He was nice, but, he was more than likely dangerous. The drugs, while of dubious legality, were not a great sign.

After that, he leaned forward and, as Redhead said, indulged in some of the drugs that were spread out. I took the star out of the plastic and popped it under my tongue. When in Rome, right?

“I think if anybody should indulge, it’s you, Buddy,” Wrendle said. “At the very least, lighten up a little! Have some fun, will you,” he said.

Redhead huffed quietly and sipped from a tall glass. “I am having fun. I’ll be having more fun _later_.”

“Why not have some fun right now! You want a dance with this one? My treat,” he offered, nodding his head towards me. Despite myself, I blushed.

Redhead perked a brow, “Well,” she said. Wrendle grinned.

“Don’t kid yourself, Buddy,” he laughed.

“Oh, alright,” Redhead rolled her one visible eye, but smiled. She stood, offering her hand to me. “Shall we, darling?”

“Gladly,” I said, feeling the affects of the star candy on the edge of my consciousness. Star candy was fun, relatively non-addictive. While it hadn’t fully taken hold, I could remember how I reacted to it from the last time I’d taken it. Largely, it made me giggle and made my skin tingle pleasantly, smoothed out the edges of my vision and made things feel a bit more bright. Maybe dancing would be more tolerable this way.

I pulled her into a different booth than the one I’d been in with Rose. I showed her where I’d allowed myself to be touched and asked her if she wanted a specific song. She took a moment to choose and sat down, a bright smile on her face.

“How do you like it here?” she asked as I shimmed my shoulders. I laughed, but it was just the star candy. I wondered if people expected a truthful answer to that question. Of course, it was a stereotype that all people involved in stripping, or even sex work, were only doing it because it was a last option, and that it was horrible. Most Vixens genuinely loved their jobs, _did_ like getting to know people, _honestly_ had fun dancing on the pole and for patrons. I was the odd one out.

“I like it well enough,” I said, slinging my arms across her shoulder before slowly dipping myself back.

“My, you’re quite flexible,” she said with a laugh.

“It helps, in this line of work,” I told her, snapping myself back up to her. We laughed together and she held my hip on one side, exactly where I’d told her she could.

“I wonder if I should hire some dancers to work at my bar,” she mused.

“Are you here hunting for talent?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if it was my usual bold self or actually the drugs that time.

“Goodness, no,” she said, and I laughed again, quiet. “But, a good businesswoman is always open to new ideas.”

“Of course,” I said. I ghosted my hand along hers. When I stood to turn around, I glanced down and noticed a ring.

After finishing my dance, she got up to pay. I couldn’t help but blurt out,

“You’re married?”

She wasn’t the first, not by far, but the first I’d actually called on it. I’m not sure why, but I could always blame it on the star candy. 

Redhead wiggled her fingers and looked down at her hand. “I am. My wife knows very well where I am, she does have a jealous streak a mile along, but, when I’m paying for entertainment she insists it doesn’t bother her. I don’t question it.”

“Of course,” I said, nodding. “That’s… sweet,” I said. She smiled.

“She’s very good to me,” Redhead said, voice quiet and reverent. “Shall we return?” she offered me her arm and we entered the bustling club once more. I walked her back to the table.

“See! I knew your spirits could be lifted,” Wrendle said. Redhead rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you came back this way! Dahlia, I’ve got a preposition for you.”

“Oh?” I said, “and how many creds are involved?” I asked, perking a brow as I sat on the couch. I laughed quietly. Those damned candies.

“However many you’d expected to make for the rest of the night. What’s your price?” Wrendle said, and I raised my brows.

“Um, what time is it?” I asked.

“It’s approximately 5 minutes before 1 O’Clock,” Big Guy said.

“Okay,” I did a quick mental tally of how much I’d make by 2:00 and added, oh, 5% on top of that and gave a number. Then I asked, “Why?”

“We’re having a more private rendezvous over at the Myrand Hotel, where Buddy here is staying,” Wrendle explained, “of course, we have some previously booked talent coming, but… I figured I’d see if I can’t snatch a few of my favourite Vixens, just for the last hour or so you’re meant to be working.”

I raised my brows and considered it. Redhead, whose name might very well actually be Buddy now that I thought of it, was planning on having a private conversation at the hotel, and this was by far the best chance yet I had at gaining any traction on this assignment. So I grinned and said, “Sounds like fun!”

“I knew I could count on you for a good time,” Wrendle said. “Aria is coming too,” he said, nodding to the curvy girl sat next to Big Guy. She was always sweet to me. “How’s about this, you can go back and get anything or store anything you need now and meet us near the door in 20?”

“Okay,” I said, standing up with Aria. Before walking away, though, I paused. “I just need to ask,” I said, looking at Redhead, “is Buddy, like, your name, or…?”

She laughed and I waited, “Yes, Buddy is my name, darling.”

“Okay,” I said, shaking my head, “I was confused,” I told her, and the group laughed.

Aria looped her arm in mine and we walked back to the dressing room. I got my long coat and a messenger bag that held more comfortable shoes, my comms, and an assortment of random makeup junk and whatnot. Aria did the same, and I looked over at her.

She had sleek hair pulled back into a ponytail at the top of her head. She’d told me, weeks ago, it was naturally curly but she preferred to style it differently for her job here. I took comfort in the fact I wasn’t alone in altering my appearance so drastically for the club. She had dark skin and warm eyes. She was a classic Vixen, kind, empathic, flirty, fun. She connected with the patrons, pulling in

We both took a few minutes to primp in the mirror, correct any flaws in the heavy makeup on our faces. I could never get over the visage I saw in the mirror and how unlike myself it looked.

Some minutes later, Aria turned to me. “Ready, Dahl?” she asked, her voice like honey. I linked my arm in hers this time, coat folded over the opposite arm and bag slung across my body.

“Ready,” I confirmed, and we make our way back through the club. The change in light was jarring but Aria kept me steady, and I found myself laughing as we walked. She giggled, too.

“Did Wren give you some of his stash, too?” she asked.

“Just a star candy,” I told her, and we both laughed. “Well, he offered whatever I wanted, but, well,” I shrugged, “the, um, other stuff, isn’t as appealing to me.”

“That’s fair. Smart, probably,” she said, smiling at me. We made our way near the entrance, but only Big Guy was there for now. He nodded at us.

She had her hand clasped over mine and it was comforting. The other Vixens were all so nice. I didn’t know them all that well, but, even then, I got along better with them than the people at the HCPD. I shoved that thought away, though. The star candy made it easier, to brush away bad thoughts. I idly wondered why I’d stopped taking drugs, but, realized that would actually lead to bad thoughts so I just looked around for something else to think about it.

I caught Rose’s eye and smiled at him warmly, lifting my free hand to wave. I laughed, and I heard Aria laugh with me.

“Leaving so soon?” Rose greeted me for the second time that night.

“I’ve got another engagement to get to,” I told him, schooling my expression to act more aloof than I felt for once.

“A shame. Your beauty will be sorely missed here,” he said, and I snorted, then clapped my hand over my mouth. Aria tilted her head and laughed. Fuck, I was too high.

“Flirt,” I accused, glancing over to Aria and then back at Rose. She kept giggling. He really was quite handsome, with those _damn_ eyes.

“I admit it freely,” Rose said, a smile playing on his lips. “You seem… in higher spirits, than usual.”

I shrugged at him, and then laughed. “Maybe it was finally getting that dance with you,” I said, and he raised his brows.

“No, that’s not quite it,” he said, slowly. I kept laughing.

“You caught me, Rose.” I rolled my eyes and said, “It’s the drugs!” He laughed too, this time. It was such a nice laugh.

“Indeed it is,” he said, glancing me up and down. I ran my tongue over my teeth and looked away for a second. “Well, I certainly hope you have fun, at your engagement,” he said, then added, “stay safe, Dahlia.”

“Always do,” I told him. I held his gaze for a moment and felt that he meant it. A private party didn’t have the same security as Vixen Valley, he might genuinely be concerned for me. It was a sweet thought.

“Darlings, are you ready?” I heard Buddy’s voice as she approached. I looked over at her.

“I must be on my way,” I said, glancing at Rose one final time. He nodded.

“Until we meet again,” he said, and I smiled, then turned with Aria and walked out of the club.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if you're reading this as it's uploaded this chapter was previously in the chapter 3 slot. Sorry for any confusion!

The cool night air was a relief from the heat and crowding of the club. We were led out to nice car, sleek and red. Our whole group climbed in the backseat, myself, Aria, Buddy, Wrendle, and Big Guy. I didn’t have a chance to ask his name.

I was sat next to Buddy, and happy to be there. I was handed a glass of a fine champagne and I sipped it between witty dialogue and bouts of laughter.

“I do hope you don’t mine my touching you now that we’re outside of the establishment,” Buddy said, and I glanced at her.

“You have a _wife_ ,” I said.

“I only meant around your _shoulder_ , darling,” she said, as she put her arm around me. “You’re quite feisty. I appreciate that, in a lady. Though, it can get one in trouble at times.”

I laughed, “I assure you, I’m an expert at getting myself in trouble. Thankfully, that means I tend to be skilled in getting myself out, too. One way or another,” I said.

“Now that’s good to hear,” she squeezed my shoulder and we laughed. 

Our glasses were refilled once by the time we drove over to the hotel, despite it being a pretty short drive.

Wrendle and Big Guy helped us out of the car. I wouldn’t normally need it, but high heels mixed with drugs and alcohol meant I wasn’t quite as sure on my feet. Aria and I held onto each other on the walk to into the lobby of the hotel for that same reason.

“You’re so pretty, Dahl,” she said, out of nowhere. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, you know,” I said, looking at her up and down with a wicked grin on my face. We both laughed.

“Yes, you’re both very beautiful, darlings,” Buddy said, holding the door open for us with a grin of her own. She was in a much better mood than when I’d been eavesdropping on her, or at least she was good at pretending.

We laughed, again, and were led over to an elevator. We all piled in, I leaned against the wall and Aria leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. I dropped my cheek on her head until the doors opened again.

Despite the quiet in the hallways, once the door to the hotel room was opened, there was a cacophony of noise, much like the club. I took in a deep breath and Aria and I walked in. Wrendle beckoned a person to take our coats and store them in a closet somewhere, and we were swept into a dimly lit living space crawling with people.

It was a much more intimate affair than the club by virtue of being a smaller space. I quickly realized most of the people were young, other dancers, and those who weren’t stood out in their dress as well as general affect.

Aria pulled me to the middle of the floor to dance with some of the others who were already there. I danced with her, smiling. She ran her hands up my body. I slid my hands onto her hips in return and swayed to the music. She grabbed my hand and encouraged me to twirl and I laughed, twirling out. When I twirled again, my back hit her chest as she slid her hand down my thigh. I twirled back around a few moments later and replaced my hand on her neck. I leaned in a bit.

“Is this okay?” I whispered, my lips near her own. She nodded and grinned, and then I kissed her.

I heard someone whistle and glanced back after we parted, seeing Buddy eyeing us. I laughed, and so did Aria, and we danced to one more song before I went to find water.

In the kitchenette, there was a girl sat on the counter smoking something out of a glass bowl-like contraption. I was intimately familiar with the practice. There was a person standing in front of her, ready to take it from her for a turn.

There was a crystal pitcher with a little placard that declared it water, so I poured some into one of the metal cups provided and brought it to my lips. I wandered back into the dance room and took a seat on the arm of a chair, glancing over at Big Guy, who was sitting there.

“You’re still looking mighty unhappy,” I observed, looking around at the people in the room. A few faces I recognized from the club, patrons that had been in at least once or twice. I spotted the tall guy that manhandled me earlier and scowled for a moment but then took a drink of water and glanced down again.

“This is... not my scene. Not anymore,” he said.

“Why’d you come?” I asked, doing what I could to keep the judgement out of my voice and going for honest curiosity instead.

“I’m here for Buddy,” he said.

“It seems like she can handle herself pretty well,” I said.

“Yes. There are both pros and cons to working alone. Just as there are pros and cons to having someone to count on,” he told me.

“Wise words,” I murmured.

“I try,” he said.

I finished my water and put the glass down on a little table before returning to the floor with Aria and the other dancers. I danced with them, keeping and eye out for Wrendle and Buddy.

A few dances later, I saw Wrendle go to Buddy and she stood up. They talked for a moment, before turning and walking towards the other half of the room. There was a door there, and I watched them go into it.

There was a small cabinet beside the door. I made my expression pained and held my stomach for a second.

“Hey, um, I’m gonna look for the bathroom,” I said to Aria. She nodded.

“Want me to come?” she asked. I shook my head.

“I’m okay, just gotta pee,” I said, and she nodded again.

I walked back and acted like I was looking around. I held my forehead for a minute and then walked over to the cabinet, leaning on it with on arm. The door was slightly ajar. I fiddled with my earring for a second, twisting it to try to tune it to speech better.

I could just hear Buddy’s voice, saying, “Thank you for arranging this meeting, Wren, I mean it.”

I glanced over, and then pressed my back against the wall. I slid down it, putting my head between my hands, like I did when I was feeling sick with the drugs and liquor. I wasn’t feeling sick, but I could play it damn well.

“Anything for you, Bud,” Wren said. “I really hope you find what you’re looking for. I wish I could be better help, but…”

“Don’t worry. I’m well aware you’re trying to keep your nose clean. Or, clean _er_ , at least. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

“We all got our vices,” Wrendle laughed. “I’ll go get Max,” he said, then the door nearby opened. He didn’t notice me. I pressed the heels of my hands against my forehead.

I risked looking up for a moment and saw Wrendle approaching again with the tall man from earlier, who I almost walked into. I dropped my gaze again.

“Buddy, Maximillian. Max, Bud,” Wrendle was saying.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Buddy said.

“The pleasure is all mine, Aurinko. You’re quite a legend,” he said. “One moment,” he said then, he cleared his throat and I felt his footsteps come closer. Shit.

“Hey there, little lady,” he said, and I slowly lifted my head, blinking.

“Hm?” I said.

“Oh, darling,” I heard Buddy say. “Are you alright?”

“Huh?” I repeated. “Oh, Buddy,” I said. I pulled my hair back from my head and held it tight. “Oh, I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said, making my voice sound garbled.

“You should get some water, kiddo,” Maximillian said, “you don’t look too hot.”

“You don’t think I’m hot?” I said, putting my hand on my chest. Buddy chuckled lightly.

“Darling, you’re a bit sick,” she said more gently. “Come, now,” she said, offering her hand.

“Right,” I mumbled. I rubbed my hand at the back of my neck, under my choker necklace. There, I had a limited supply of dissolving bugs that would record conversation for about 45 minutes, sending it directly to my comms and Rita’s. They were paper thin, discreet, and sticky. I held Buddy’s hand with my other hand and braced myself on her shoulder, leaving the bug behind on the puffed sleeve of her blouse.

“Thanks,” I said. “Um, I’ll get water,” I said, frowning and scrunching my nose.

“Here, Wrendle will accompany you, now,” Buddy said. I nodded, and put my hand on his thick arm as he led me away. I glanced back and watched Buddy as she watched me with concern. Max had a hard look on his face, difficult for me to discern.

I was led back to the kitchenette and Wrendle got me some water. I kept faking sick.

“I promise you, the stars I gave you were good. My supplier doesn’t cut with any bullshit,” he assured me. He was frowning, brows tight with concern.

“It’s just been a while, and, well, I had a lot to drink, too,” I explained, waving him off. “I promise, I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl, okay?” I said, giving a sad little smile. He nodded.

“You need anything else, you come straight to me, or Bud, okay? Can’t have our ladies having a bad time, we’re supposed to be having fun, here,” he said. I nodded.

“I just want to sit,” I told him. “Oh, and I wanted to grab my comms. I wanna… check in with my girlfriend,” I said. Girlfriend was code Rita, because I couldn’t very well be talking about an office assistant that I wanted to call past 2AM, at least not when I didn’t work in an office.

“We can make that happen,” he said, squeezing my shoulders. He lead me to the closet and let me dig out my comms and then found me a spot on the windowsill.

I lifted my comms to my ear and used it to tune into the conversation Buddy was having with Maximillian.

“It seems like what you have is worth quite a bit,” Max said.

“I believe so,” Buddy said. “Do you think you have a buyer? Or, even, perhaps, a trader,” she inquired.

“A trade, you say? Well, that depends on what you’re looking to trade for. What’re you into nowadays? Are we talking art and jewels, or, say, munitions… people?” he asked. My heart caught in my throat. I wasn’t sure if I was more hopeful that Buddy would be looking for those heavy-hitters, or not. On the one hand, I liked Buddy, and didn’t want to hear a reason to stop liking her. On the other hand, this was the sort of thing I needed.

“Oh please, nothing of the sort,” she said. “I have all the art I need, and I wouldn’t involve myself in… the latter,” she said carefully.

“Of course. So, what are you looking for?” Max asked. They went silent for a while, long enough for my mind to race. I was wondering if, perhaps, Buddy had found the little bug on her shoulder. _Dammit._ I was about to give up hope when I heard Max say,

“These articles are myths, Buddy. I have a lot of respect for you, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t realize you were such a… dreamer,” Max was saying.

“If we don’t dream, then what do we have to live for? If I had a habit of giving up on my dreams, I never would have made it this far,” Buddy said. “I assure you, they are myth-like objects, but there is evidence of their existence. And, really, what harm does it do to look into them? Even if it’s not fruitful, its no skin off my nose, so to speak.”

“Can’t argue with that, I guess. Well, not at your stage of life. Some of us still have to build our fortunes, and reputations, and can’t afford to chase dreams and myths,” I could imagine the scowl on Maximillian’s face. “Well, I can’t help you with this, not directly. I could more easily get you in contact with someone if you were looking to trade for… something else,” he said.

“Well, I’m not interested in something else,” Buddy went on, measured. “I may have been led to believe your resources were more robust than they really are; of course, that’s no fault of your own.”

“Slow down there,” Max said. “Give me a minute.” There was another silence, this time I waited before jumping to conclusions. “I can’t put you in touch with a direct buyer or trader, but here are some people who are more… your speed. They’ve got some fanciful ideas, they should be able to help you.”

“Well, thank you. At least this wasn’t an entirely wasted trip,” she had a sigh to her voice.

“You seemed like you were having an awful lot of fun, actually,” Max commented with a chuckle.

“I am an expert in mixing business with pleasure, as you know,” she said.

“Of course. Well, it _was_ a pleasure doing business with you. I hope you can find what you’re looking for,” he said. There was a snark to his voice, a cynicism. It was obvious he thought what Buddy was looking for wasn’t real.

“As do I,” Buddy said, undeterred. I heard Max walking away.

I fiddled with my comms for a second, then I actually called Rita.

“Boss?” I heard her sleepy voice. “What is it? Is something wrong?” she said, her voice picking up in speed and worry.

“No, no, I’m fine… honey,” I said, glancing around me. “I’m still at work. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Awwhh Mistah Steel! That’s so sweet!”

“I have a lot I want to talk to you about. I was hoping we could… get brunch, tomorrow morning,” I said, hoping she’d catch on to what I was saying. “Or, I guess, this morning, since it’s almost 3 AM.”

“We got a team meeting in the afternoon, can’t it wait til then?” she asked.

“I want to spend some time with you alone,” I said slowly, “before we see everyone else together. Y’know, so we have some time to ourselves. To talk.”

“Oooh, okay, boss. Well, whatever you want! How early are we talkin’, though?” she sounded skeptical with her last statement.

“Not before 12,” I said. There was no way I’d be able to pull myself out of bed before then.

“Okey doke! My place or yours, toots?” she barked a laugh and I laughed too.

“Mine. Bye, sweetheart,” I said, a bit forceful. She squeed again.

“Y’know, a gal could get used to this, you bein’ nice to her and all.”

“Yeah don’t count on it,” I said, deadpan, and we both laughed again. “Seriously, I gotta go.”

“Okay, okay. _You_ ’re the one who called me, Mistah Steel. I’m going back to bed.”

“Sweet dreams. Bye,” I said, and hung up on her.

I got up from the windowsill and sat with Buddy and Wrendle for another ten minutes, Wrendle asking me how my girlfriend was. Buddy looked at me with a raised brow, and I told Wrendle she was “tired, but happy to hear from me”.

Aria was ready to leave the same time I was, so we collected our stuff together. My mind was absolutely swimming and the haze from the star candy was going to set in soon. Tomorrow I’d be hit with a real fog and my mouth would be dry and sticky. Maybe I should have had the forethought to remember I was going to be at a meeting at the precinct before I took drugs on the job, but oh well. I’d stumbled into the HCPD coming off much worse highs than this.

Buddy and Wrendle were good people, criminals as they clearly were. They were caring individuals, the liked having fun and made their money how they could, as far as I could tell. I still wasn’t 100% certain, of course, but I believed that Wrendle was trying not to involve himself in the real action.

Max was bad news, though, I could feel it. Technically, he hadn’t said anything fully incriminating, but I knew it in my guts. It was thrilling, to have that confirmation. If I could just get some real dirt on him, or on one of the people he knew that was moving weapons and people, I’d have this assignment.

There was just one big, gaping problem with that. Maximillian didn’t trust me as far as he could throw me, that was abundantly clear from the way he looked at me with vague distain. I’d been caught lingering outside of the door, and I’d made a bad impression when I’d almost run into him.

I wasn’t going to be able to get close to him, I couldn’t play nice enough to get back on his good side. He wasn’t chummy like Buddy and Wrendle, and he was involved in more shady business. He’d be more guarded, so there’s no way I could see to get those walls down.

Fortunately, I knew that he had other contacts. Wrendle couldn’t be the only one who knew him and also went to the club. I’d have to find someone who knew more than Wrendle _and_ could get me to Max, or, someone who was involved at the same level as him.

That might turn out to be a feat. Who knew how long it would take to figure out who that was, and then get in bed with them (metaphorically, of course).

Now that I had this little thread, though, at least I had something to pull, something to pursue instead of just stumbling the floor and hoping to fall into the arms of some big shot crime boss.

Aria kissed me on the cheek before she got out of the car, and I rode the rest of the way alone, fumbling into my apartment and shedding my shoes and clothes as fast as I possibly could without snapping an ankle.

Still, I couldn’t sleep right away. I was up another half hour or so writing down names, taking notes, getting all of my thoughts out, seeing what my true leads were. Tomorrow, I’d meet with Rita and get everything sorted, and then show up with something concrete to the meeting.

 _Take that, HCPD_ , I thought, as I finally sunk into my mattress. Sleep didn’t take long after that.

\--

The next morning, I got up and piled my notes together, fighting through the fog. Rita arrived with coffee and breakfast, which I thanked her for. I launched into a slow explanation of what I’d learned. I was met with lots of questions from Rita that helped flesh out the story we would put forward at the meeting. Of course, some of her questions were better than others, some of the sent us into a 5-minute discussion of something she’d watched recently before I said “Rita, _focus_ ” three times and hauled us back on track.

Overall, it was good prep. Before I knew it, it was time to head to the precinct.

“Y’know boss, I love getting to work together in person for once, but do you _need_ to track so much glitter around with you?” Rita complained we walked into the office and she brushed some glitter off her bag.

“Excuse me? _You_ are the one who bought all of that glitter and insisted I wear it on the job,” I said, indignant.

“Well, yeah, I s’pose, but it just gets _everywhere_ ,” she complained.

“You think you have a problem with glitter getting everywhere? I’ll have you know, every day I find glitter in every little crack of my-“

“BOSS! We’re at the office!”

“ _Floorboards_ , Rita! The glitter is in every crack of my floorboards, no vacuum has a hope of getting it all out. Jeeze,” I fixed her with a menacing glare and she had the decency to pull a face of slight embarrassment for half a second before laughing.

“Oops!” she said, shrugging.

I shook my head and looked at the clock. We had ten minutes until the meeting started, which meant there was only a bit of time I had to fill making small talk with the people who asked me how it was going, commented on my assignment, and so on.

Rita and I met the team in one of the meeting rooms, conferring on my assignment as well as a couple others. When it came to my turn, Rita interjected frequently as I explained my progress, making sure no detail was left behind and or unembellished. In a way, it helped, giving me time to get my words straight with the haze in my brain. I made sure the story was clear by the end, though, and then waited for the reactions.

“So you have… nothing?” one of the men asked, and I scowled.

“Brent,” another said, warning in his voice.

“We don’t have _nothing_ ,” I snapped anyway. “Did you even listen? We have a lead with this Maximillian guy. He obviously knows someone who is moving ‘munitions and people’, those were exact words.”

“I guess,” Brent said, “correct me if I’m wrong, he only asked the woman if _she_ was interested in trading for munitions or people. He didn’t say that he was trading them.”

“Well, no, but it was between the lines! I’m not staying we’re ready to go in guns ablazing, I’m saying he’s a person of interest, now, and I’m planning to find out more about him.”

“That’s good, Officer Steel. I’m sure Officer Brent is just making sure we’re all on the same page, so we know where you are and where you plan to go next,” it was the Captain speaking, Captain Khan. He was decent, better than most at the HCPD anyway. His main goal in these meetings was keeping the peace. I scowled at him anyway. “Now,” he went on, “let’s have the next update. Officer Rynne,” he gestured for them to go on.

I sat back in my chair, shooting daggers at Officer Brent for a moment before pretending to pay attention to Rynne’s update. I was too busy thinking through my presentation again, wondering if Brent was right that I didn’t have much to go on.

But, I knew what I knew. There was no way Maximillian didn’t know _something_ , even if he wasn’t directly selling weapons himself. All I had to do was get close enough for confirmation, evidence, and then we could zero and I’d have actual support from my team. My head hurt.

I continued to basically tune out the rest of the updates, tapping my long nails on my own elbow. Now that I was used to them, they felt kind of powerful, if out of place when I was wearing, well, less femme clothing.

My regular garb was more along the lines of faded t-shirts and slacks or denim, which didn’t exactly match the aesthetic of sharp, deep burgundy nails. Not that I’d previously cared much about having a cohesive look.

We were dismissed after the meeting. Because of my assignment, I didn’t really have any other reason to be at the office, so I bounced. Rita still had some stuff to do. I forgot, occasionally, that she worked for the actual office and not just me, what with her calling me boss all the time. We worked well together, Rita and I, maybe that had something to do with it.

For the time being, I spent a bit of time in the park, mildly dazed, before heading home. I wanting to plan my next move, but, I didn’t really see how I could.

I needed to find someone who knew Maximillian and didn’t distrust me yet, and that would require just spending time at the club and trying to have a pleasant presence. 

One of those things would be easier than the other.

So, I ended up sending Rita a message asking if she had any stream recommendations and she was back at my place within minutes of her shift ending, rooting through my cupboards for the nasty snacks I kept there just for her.

She threw me something I actually liked and talked my ear off about the stream, and then about the case, and then the stream again. I smiled at her a couple times, only when she was looking away.

Rita left after a few more hours and I was so tired, my brain still so foggy, that I went to bed at what might be considered a decent hour for once in my life. I’d just have to wait for the club.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, again, if you're reading this as it's uploaded this, I accidentally forgot to add the second chapter so that has been added now. This chapter was previously unreleased! Sorry for any confusion! I'm going to continue to post chapters on monday and I hope I don't fuck up again lol wish me luck!

The next week and a half were frustratingly slow. I saw neither hair nor hide of Maximillian. I saw Rose, the next night after my meeting. I danced for him, talked with him, and genuinely laughed at a joke he made afterwards. I wondered if he thought my laughter meant I was high, but I saw no opportunity to ask without sounding like an idiot. I saw Wrendle once, too. He bought me a drink and asked me how I was doing, if I’d felt better after I went home. I told him I was perfectly fine after some sleep.

I saw the few regulars I’d amassed, but none of them were of interest to the assignment. Two middle-age men who liked it more the meaner I was, and one older lady who liked when I was funny and snarky, but not really mean, plus a person who wasn’t really interested in talking and seemed to cycle through a couple of Vixens, myself included. None of them had any criminal connections that I could discern, so I just did my fake job as best as I could.

It was another slow Tuesday when I saw Wrendle again. He paid me for a dance, then bought me a drink.

He grabbed some of his stash as we sat on the couch. It wasn’t one of those that had a pole on the table in front of it. “You don’t mind, hm?” he asked, and I shook my head no. “You want some?”

“No,” a half-lie. I watched him take it, scratching lightly at my knee.

When she passed by, Wren beckoned Aria over too. Her hair was down tonight, reaching her mid back in one straight swath. She smiled and sat, the wide expanse of her thighs looking lovely against the material of couch as she smoothed out her little dress.

“Not tonight, Wrendle, that stuff fucks me up,” she said.

“That’s the point!” he said with a laugh. “I’ve got the candies, too, if you’re interested,” he added a moment later.

“How much is this gonna run us?” I quipped, brushing a hand against his shoulder.

Wrendle shook his head, “For you, not a cred.” He winked. “I’m not trying to grift you, I just have more than I need and figured I might as well spread the love.”

Aria shrugged a shoulder, “I’ve never tried star candies before,” she hummed.

“They’re not too bad, it’s a fun high, and the low is mostly like a regular hangover,” I said, from experience. “I was honestly only sick because of the booze the other week,” I scrunched my nose.

“Oh, yeah. Were you okay, afterwards?” Aria asked, tilting her head in that genuine and empathic way of hers.

“Definitely,” I said.

“Well,” Aria raised a brow, and glanced at Wrendle. He smiled and passed her a little baggy with a star candy in it. “Is the full thing okay for my first time?”

“Should be,” Wrendle said, then he glanced at me, “whattaya think, Dahl?”

“I mean, I’ve surmised you’re no novice, Ari,” I started, and she snickered and nodded, “I think you’ll be fine. Under your tongue,” I added. 

Aria did as I said and popped the star candy into her mouth. I glanced at Wrendle myself and he perked a brow up.

“You too, Dahlia?” he asked, and I sighed dramatically.

“Oh, what the hell,” I said, putting out my hand palm up. He placed a baggie in it and laughed at me.

I took the candy and did the same as Aria. Wrendle got up to get her a drink, saying something about minding his manners. She requested it be just water.

I looked around. It was sparse tonight, even for a Tuesday. It never was the busiest night of the week, but Hyperion was a city that never slept. I just wanted to curl up into the couch and melt into it, I didn’t feel like working the floor. I wasn’t sure if what I’d made dancing for Wrendle would cover the pole fee, but I didn’t care that much.

Star candy also made me a tad peppier, though, so maybe I’d feel more willing to get up and walk around once it actually kicked in.

“You doing okay, Dahlia?” Aria asked, coming over to sit next to me. I dropped my head on her shoulder.

“I’m fine, I just really don’t want to walk the floor,” I whined.

“Yeeah. There’s, like, nobody here,” she said, and I felt her move her neck from side to side. “Oh! There’s that tall guy, though,” she said. I lifted my head, a bit too fast, and then slowly looked around.

I spotted Max, but when I looked over at Aria she was pushing her chin towards someone else. I looked there, instead, and saw Rose. I smiled.

Maybe this night wouldn’t be such a bust after all.

I glanced back at Max for a second, he was walking towards the bar. I knew that I still wouldn’t get anywhere with him, but I just had to keep tabs and find someone he spent sometime talking to, right?

I looked back at Rose and noticed him staring at me. I laughed to myself and lifted a hand to wave. He winked.

Wrendle came back and handed the two of us glasses of water, which we both graciously accepted. I glanced over once again, and Rose wasn’t looking anymore. Actually, I didn’t even see him any longer.

I drank my water, and then slowly sipped the drink Wrendle had previously purchased for me as I felt the brightness of the star candy wash over me.

I continued to chat with Wrendle and Aria, like we were just a group of friends hanging out. We were laughing loudly, though it was most likely only noticeable to me because of how damn empty it was in there.

I thought this was probably what Wrendle liked best about coming here. He seemed to request dances more out of obligation, knowing we had bills to pay, but he really preferred to sit out and drink. It wasn’t that unusual, many patrons were looking for more emotional connection than anything.

Eventually, Aria got up to walk the floor, but not before squeezing her arm around shoulder and patting Wrendle on the back. I watched her go with a smirk on my face.

“I should probably go, too,” I said, as I lifted my legs into Wrendle’s lap. All the while, I was keeping my eye on Maximillian as he flitted about. Of course, I never looked for too long. I saw him talk to some ladies, an older gentleman, a couple people at the edge of the room. I recognized a couple of them, and filed that away, thinking I could pursue them.

“I understand. You gotta make your money, Dahlia,” he said, resting his hands on my shins respectfully. Usually patrons never quite acknowledged that as the reason I was here, so I snorted indelicately before covering my mouth to laugh more.

“Yeah. I don’t think I’m going home with many creds tonight,” I said, looking out at the floor. “It’s a fucking ghost town in here,” I said. I spotted Aria talking to Maximillian and perked a brow.

“You’re not gonna make any more just sitting here with me. Well,” he thought for a second. “If you want, we can go for another dance,” he said, again, out of obligation.

“Only if _you_ want, Wren. You know how this works,” I said. He laughed.

“Let’s go, so I can stop feeling guilty for eating up your time. Then you should really get back out there.”

I heaved a sigh, tilting back my head, and said, “Fine!” I laughed, swinging my legs off him and standing. “C’mon,” I said, and we went back to the booths again.

It _was_ more fun, dancing, when I was high. It took the edge off, made me feel less silly and awkward. Wrendle paid for two dances, though halfway through the second he said something that sent us both laughing, his thick hands the only thing keeping me from falling only the floor when I tossed my head back.

As the song ended, I climbed off of him and we both kept laughing for a bit before I hit the floor again. At least I was in a better mood, now. Ready to prowl.

I made a couple laps, shooting smiles and glances at the few patrons scattered about. It was as much of a waste of time as sitting with Wrendle would be. Maximillian was gone, and I didn’t see Rose anywhere, either.

Sighing, I stopped at the bar and picked up another drink. I leaned against it, looking around the floor.

I spotted someone that I was pretty sure I saw talking to Maximillian, a person a little shorter than me. I sidled up and talked to them, and they bought me another drink. I asked them how they were doing, did my best to get a read on them, but nothing struck me as suspicious or interesting. A couple moments later, they politely excused themself to go speak to a specific Vixen they’d spotted.

Whatever, then.

I finished the drink they bought me and left the glass at the bar. I still hadn’t seen Maximillian again. I didn’t even see Wren.

As I walked towards one of the empty couches and leaned against one, just to do _something_ , the music changed.

I almost never noticed it when a song began or ended when out on the floor. It all blended together, electronic and bass, sultry lyrics from voices either deep or high. Normally it wasn’t notable at all, some of it had even grown on me.

This song wasn’t the same. It was something I _did_ recognize, and I loathed it.

I groaned out loud, leaning on the back of the couch and crossing my arms tightly over my midsection. It was more than just loathing. The song was something my mother used to play around the house, dancing around with Benzaiten. She was the last thing I wanted to be reminded of, now or ever.

I frowned tightly, shifting my weight from one heel to the other. The song was _long_ too, a deep voice singing about pain and monstrosity. At least it was fitting for her, my mother.

My nails on my forearms, I thought about clawing myself out of my skin.

“Dahlia?” I heard. I blinked once, feeling a hand come to my shoulder. I looked over.

“Hi,” I said, Rose looking down at me with his brows drawn.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Fine,” I pulled a face. I used my thumb to crack the knuckles on one of my hands idly, realizing a bit too late this was probably ill-fitting behaviour of a darling Vixen. Whatever.

“Forgive me, I’m not sure if I believe you,” he said.

“I’m okay,” I looked away. This was the opposite of how I was supposed to act. Even when I was played the moody seductress, I was supposed to care about the patron, act even a tiny bit pleasant. I just wanted him to leave me alone.

He wasn’t leaving.

“I just hate this song. It reminds me of… someone,” I caved, scowling.

“Ah,” he said. “Would you like to accompany me to the back? We can put something else on there,” he asked, and I blinked. 

“Oh. Right,” I said. _Stupid_ , I berated myself. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Come, now,” he said, and I let him lead me away.

He shut the curtain to the booth and the song was reduced to a faint noise. He put on another song, something fun, and it was entirely gone.

“Please, have a seat,” he said, waving towards the couch.

“I’m the one who is supposed to dance,” I said, but I stepped forward to sit as he suggested.

“Oh, my apologies. I suppose I wasn’t clear, I don’t want you to dance for me,” he said.

“Gee, thanks,” I snapped, despite myself. Fuck, what was I doing? Rose had been nothing but a perfect gentleman. I needed to reign in my onerous personality.

He smiled kindly, “I don’t want a dance while you’re _obviously_ upset. I still plan to pay you for your time here, of course, but I want you to have a moment to breath. I can even leave, if you prefer.”

“No,” I said slowly, “stay. Please. I’m sorry, for snapping,” I said, pressing my lips together and looking down. I stretched my legs out in front of me, the stilettos of my heels on the ground.

“It’s okay,” he squeezed my shoulder, then cleared his throat. “I understand this is a bit of a role-reversal, but.. if you would like to talk about it, I’d be more than happy to listen.”

I looked at him, at his eyes. They were kind, bright, attentive. A laugh slipped between my lips and I clapped my hand over my mouth.

“I’m not laughing at you,” I said, quickly. “I’m high,” I added, just as quickly.

“Ah, I see,” he said. I laughed more.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I said. “I usually.. handle myself, better.”

“Are you sure? I recall last time I saw you this high you were laughing like a hyena,” he teased, and I kept laughing.

“Rude,” I said, giving him a playful glare. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. You have a wonderful laugh,” he told me, and I blushed. I shook my head.

“Yeah, well,” I started, but it wasn’t going anywhere. The laughter subsided and I took a deep breath. “Thank you, Rose. I should have thought to come back here,” I said.

“It can be difficult to think straight, when our senses are overwhelmed with unpleasantries such as bad memories,” he said.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “I’m okay,” I whispered. A second song started playing. I looked over at him.

I didn’t know what to expect, when I was assigned this role, but I surely didn’t expect people like him. I didn’t expect people like Wrendle, Aria. Hell, even Buddy, and her friend, the Big Guy.

I thought, for a moment, about the regulars I had. They appreciated what I did for them, sent me off with plenty of creds and genuine thanks. It wasn’t like I expected all of the people to be awful, and there was a fair share of handsy bastards, but for each of them there was at least two kind souls who just liked to have fun and connect with people.

Most of my time spent in clubs before this, I was way higher, on stronger shit, and had fewer friends looking out for me. Sure, Mick was usually there, but we were equally disastrous, and it was a toss up whether the other would be alive enough to provide back up in a hairy situation.

“Thank you,” I repeated, firm and sincere. “It means a lot, you seeing that I wasn’t okay and… helping me out.”

“Any decent man would do the same, Dahlia,” he said. I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe,” I said.

We were silent for a moment. Then, an idea came over me.

I started to act before I could talk myself out of it. I took a deep breath and stood, flipping my hair back. “Still. A good deed shouldn’t go unpaid,” I told him. “Let me dance for you,” I said, voice lower.

“Oh, that’s quite unnecessary, Dahlia,” he started, but I could see a glint in his eyes. “I told you, I didn’t bring you back here for that, this time. You’ve no obligation, none at all.”

I walked over to the music selector and found something that intrigued me. I looked back at him, lowering my eyes, meeting his gaze. “I want to,” I told him. It wasn’t a lie.

“Well…” he said. He pressed his lips together and his eyes flickered over my body. “I’m not quite that strong, so, if you truly insist,” he went on.

“I do,” I said, and pressed play on the song.

It wasn’t my usual number. In fact- and this was funny, the song was another one I recognized. It even reminded me of somebody. Not of my mother, that would be freakish- it reminded me of Diamond. Our relationship. I listened to it a lot, after they left me.

As I settled in the lap of this other man, this man that I was _very_ attracted to, it felt like reclamation. I would always insist I had moved on from Diamond, every time my friends pestered me about it. I sometimes believed it. Sometimes I didn’t.

Obviously, Rose wasn’t a real option, but pressing my chest up to his, having his hands on me _exactly_ where I told him to put them, it allowed me to imagine a future. A future where I was with someone who would notice when I wasn’t okay, who would care enough to pull me out of myself and sit with me. It’d been a long time since I’d had that in a romantic partner, if I ever had.

The song stopped and another one played. I looked at Rose and he raised a brow at me. “Oops,” I whispered, “I must have selected two,” I shrugged. He laughed, this time.

The next song was softer, more romantic, in a way. Not long after it started, I changed up my dance. Where Rose’s hand was on my hip, I slipped my own underneath it, guiding his hand over mine. I brought our hands up to my chest. He looked at me with fire in his eyes and I smirked, then slipped my hand back out so his hand was on my chest, over my heart.

I left his hand on my chest for a moment before I guided it again down my front and back to my hip, where it was allowed to be. The whole time I watched his face, saw the heat in his expression, the desire. It was a drug much more powerful than the one I was on.

When the song ended, I slipped from his lap in a slow movement and wracked my brain to figure out what the hell had just come over me right there. It was exhilarating. I wondered if the other Vixens always felt like that, if that was why they loved this damn job so much. I could understand it, if it made them feel like that, powerful and sexy.

The only problem was, I couldn’t imagine myself feeling like that with just any patron. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Rose was special. There was …something… there. He wasn’t a real option, no, but there was a genuine connection. I wondered if he felt it too, or if he thought I was just good at my job. That was hard to imagine, but crazier things had happened.

“That was… beautiful, darling,” he said, something strained in his voice. I ran my fingers through my hair, looking back at him. He was at the table.

“Don’t you dare pay for all four songs,” I told him, going over to see what he was doing. He looked at me guilty, but said,

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He hid what he was doing with his shoulder, but I leaned up against his back to see.

“Don’t add a tip in the amount of two songs, either!”

“You’re a crafty one, hm?” he laughed, and I laughed along with him. “Fine, fine. Two songs, paid for, with a _normal_ tip. Happy, now?”

“Utterly elated,” I said. It wasn’t even a lie. I felt lighter, and I wasn’t even sure if I could blame the star candy, at least not entirely.

“Good,” he said, sincerely. We left the booth and he kissed my hand, as he liked to do. I smiled at him, small but real.

“Until we meet again,” he said. A promise, I thought.

I assumed that would probably be the end of my action for tonight, as it was just as dead on the floor as it had been all night. I trailed back over to a couch and sat for a minute, did one more lap, and thought about going home. I had plans for brunch with Ben, tomorrow, it might be wise to get some extra sleep.

Until, I saw, in the corner of my eye, Max leaning against the far end of the bar, in a more shadowed place.

Even more curious, the person standing next to him,

Rose.

I wanted to make a beeline, but that would probably draw suspicion. I sauntered over, thankful that there was yet another tall individual sitting beside Rose that I could sort of hide behind. They were speaking in hushed tones, but the tall person was alone and drinking so there was no real interference. I looked the opposite way of them, sitting with my elbows on the sticky bar and my legs crossed.

“Well, at least,” I heard Maximillian say, “here’s some news you might consider good.” He sounded annoyed.

“Hm?” Rose said. “What is this?”

“I think I found a buyer for you,” Maximillian said, now sounding almost pleased, probably with himself.

“Ah,” Rose said. “That is good news. Is there anything I need to know?”

“Is there anything you want to know?” Maximillian asked, and Rose scoffed. I almost laughed, but kept it in.

“A price, perhaps? A name would be better,” Rose said.

“Mx. Mallard is all I can give you. They want to discuss the price in person, but it’s at least what you asked, of course.”

“Fair, I suppose. And on the other matters we discussed?”

“Nothing, yet. I’m working on it. What about the thing I asked _you_ for?” Max countered.

“Oh, in due time,” Rose said flippantly.

“Don’t act like you don’t owe me as much as I owe you.”

“Well, once we’ve dealt with these couple small matters, we’ll be even, won’t we?” Rose said. “I assure you, you’ll get what you asked for.”

“Well, just hurry the hell up, will you,” Maximillian grumbled and took a drink from his glass.

“One cannot rush perfection,” Rose said simply.

“Does the job need to be perfect to get done?” Maximillian countered.

“Well, one does need to ensure one does not get _caught_. If you’d rather myself and the object you want in the possession of the HCPD, by all means,” Rose said. I frowned tightly.

“Of course not,” Maximillian growled. “Whatever. It seems we have nothing left to discuss.”

“It seems that way indeed,” Rose said. I turned around as Maximillian started walking away, flagging down the bartender for some water.

I had always gotten the vibe Rose would be wrapped up in all of this. That was what drew me to him in the first place, or so I told myself. It was one of those rare cases I hated to be right.

I should have been happy, I should have been over the moon, for fuck’s sake! Rose was _exactly_ what I needed. I needed someone who had the potential to trust me, who knew Maximillian, who could link him to crime and spill some dirt and possibly lead me to evidence. This was what I was waiting for.

But it felt like shit. Because I _liked_ Rose, he was always nice, attentive, sweet. Goddammit. I felt things for him, things I didn’t want to feel, espeically not now.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

And, I realized, I could have blown it tonight, with my pissy attitude. Rose could have felt slighted when I brushed him off like that, could have walked away, said “fuck you, too”. Most patrons at this place were decent, sure, but they wouldn’t put up with that sort of thing from their _entertainment_. I was supposed to be a professional here, he would have been well within his rights to walk away from me because I couldn’t handle an off night at work.

I folded my arms and placed my head on them at the bar, not caring about the puddle of liquor my right wrist was in. Nothing ever, ever went right for Juno Steel.

I didn’t notice when the tall person next to me left. I didn’t notice when someone else sat next to me. I did notice when there was a hand laid on my shoulder, though, and I lifted my head slowly.

“Hey, Dahl,” Aria said. I looked at her. “Are you sure you’re not, like… sensitive, to star candies, or something?”

“I’m okay. I just forget that I can’t drink like usual when I’m on them,” I lied. I heard someone clear their throat and saw Rose come up next to Aria’s side.

“I’m fine,” I said, slow, simple. It was true, but I knew I wasn’t very convincing.

“Do you want me to come get some air with you?” Aria said, before looking over at Rose.

“It’s okay,” I said, glumly.

“I could go with you,” Rose said, “I’m not on the clock,” he added. Aria regarded him carefully.

I took a deep breath. It seemed I wasn’t going to be allowed to wallow by myself. I chastised myself for thinking, earlier, that I’d want someone who wouldn’t let me. Obviously that was a stupid thought. A lady should be allowed a solo pity party if he wanted one.

“Okay,” I said slowly. I swayed close to Aria and whispered, “he’s good, don’t worry.” I felt her nod and give me a quick squeeze.

“Feel better, Dahl,” Aria told me, and passed me off to Rose. I nodded.

“Hey, um. Do you mind if I just go grab my stuff? I think I’m gonna head home,” I told him.

“I don’t mind at all,” he assured me.

Rose walked me over to the dressing rooms and I went in alone, squinting in the sudden change of lighting. I packed up my shit hastily and threw my jacket over my arm, switching out my shoes and leaving the heels in my little locker.

I walked back out and looked up at Rose. With the heels, I was about his height, but out of them I was, well.. four inches shorter, because that was the height of my heels. On my face, I was wearing a little scowl. I couldn’t bring myself to care again.

He held his arm out for me, so I took it, and I walked with him.

I pulled my long coat over myself before he opened the door for me and waved me through.

“Always the perfect gentleman,” I commented, and he smiled at me.

“I try,” he told me.

The cool night air was refreshing, as it usually was. He walked me a few paces outside.

“I’m sorry your night hasn’t been going so well,” Rose said slowly. “It pains me to see you in such low spirits, but I hope you can get some rest and feel better.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I’ll be fine tomorrow,” I assured him. “I’m having breakfast with my brother, anyway,” I commented idly, because that was a line that always appeased Rita and Mick. I might have hummed and hawed about my brother, but, failing other help he was usually the best support I had. Nowadays, anyway.

I blinked. This wasn’t Mick or Rita I was standing with.

“That’s good to hear,” Rose told me, and I nodded. I wasn’t supposed to share unnecessary details about myself. Another thing I could beat myself up for, at least.

“Yeah, uh. It’s good to have him around,” I said dumbly. Rose smiled and squeezed my upper arm.

“How do you usually get home? I can comm a cab for you, if you like,” he said, pointedly not suggesting he take me there himself. That much, I was glad for.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, not answering his first question. “Thank you, again,” I said, and he just smiled at me.

He did as he said he would, and told me he’d wait for it to come.

“Thanks,” I repeated.

“It’s nothing at all, darling,” he said.

“I’m serious,” I pressed. “I really, really mean it. You’ve done a lot for me tonight.”

“How else would I maintain my status as a perfect gentleman, in your eyes,” he said, voice teasing. I laughed through my nose.

“I guess you do have that to keep up,” I said, holding on to the strap of my bag with both of my hands. I remembered the feeling of his hand on my chest- warm, heavy. I sighed, looking out at the street. We were right under a streetlight, so we could see one another.

“I do care, you know,” he said, serious. “I know this is your profession, it’s how you make your living. I’m well aware of what our relationship is to one another. But I understand you’re a human being. I’m not going to hold one bad night or a temporary mood against you. And I do care.” He paused, letting that sink in. “I meant it when I said you could talk to me, if you like,” he finished softly. 

I took in a deep breath, put a hand on my forehead. Shit, why did that make me want to cry?

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“I didn’t mean to upset you further,” he said lightly, and I looked at him. I bit my lip. “May I?” he asked.

I tilted my head, asking what he meant. I wondered if he was going to try kiss me. I would let him, if he did. I nodded, and his hands came up to my cheeks, brushing the tears under my eyes. I closed them, choked on a sob for a second. It seemed his words did more than make me _want_ to cry.

His arms came around me and I stood there, pathetic, crying into the chest of a man who paid me to dance for him. A man who was a criminal. A man who could be the key to my assignment. A man with beautiful eyes, and a beautiful smile.

Still, I let him hold me. The scent of his cologne was all I could think of for a single moment, a nice distraction from the thoughts swirling in my mind. It didn’t last, but it was good while it did.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, pulling back as much as I could.

“Don’t be,” he whispered. I nodded, and he wiped my tears again. I took in a deep breath, indelicate.

“Thanks,” I muttered once again. Blessedly, the cab arrived at about that time, cutting off any further possibility of conversation.

“Anytime,” he said, and I felt like he meant it. I nodded.

“Goodnight, Rose,” I said softly. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm changing the rating to explicit due to this chapter ;) if you want to know why please read the bottom note!

“Hey, Juno!” Benzaiten called as he entered my apartment. I had tried to cancel on him, but he hadn’t let me.

“Hey,” I said from the couch. He placed some takeout on the coffee table in front of me.

“You look like shit,” he observed as he sat next to me, and I stared him down.

I didn’t know what to say to that. So, I went with, “I hate you,” stated simply and without venom. He chuckled and nudged my shoulder.

I knew my hair was a mess, and the t-shirt I was wearing was ratty. That was because I’d slept in it, it wasn’t like I would actually leave the house like that. Well, ideally I wouldn’t, anyway- I guess I couldn’t say I would _never_ do that. I knew there were dark circles under my eyes and black smudges from the heavy makeup that I could never quite wipe away anymore. Still, this was a normal look for me, post-club.

My brother saw things other people didn’t, though. In me and in everyone.

“C’mon, tell ol’ Benten what’s up,” he said, good-natured and smiling.

“I’m shit at my job and my life is a black abyss, nothing new here,” I deadpanned. No use beating around the bush, I thought.

“Now, what would make you say that?” he asked.

“It's pretty self-explanatory if you ask me.”

“Indulge me,” he pressed. I huffed loudly and picked up the food he brought for me.

“Well, I _should_ be happy and downright pleased with myself,” I said, as if that offered him any clarity.

“Oh?” he said no more, staring me down. I didn’t look at him directly.

“But I’m not,” I said. I took a bite of the food he brought for me, still refusing to look his way.

“Come on, June.”

I groaned. “Look. Remember that guy from the club, the shady one who mentioned weapons off-hand? And remember how I said I just needed to find an in, find someone that might trust me, who knows him and then I’m one step closer to getting real, concrete evidence?”

“I do,” he said slowly. I watched as he pieced together what I’d said and he nodded.

“Well, I found someone,” I spat.

“And you sound incredibly pissed about that. I see,” he said sagely. I rolled my eyes.

“It's the guy I…. Like. The one who is really sweet.” I said, feeling my stomach drop to admit it like that.

“Sparrow? Thought you said he was nice, but essentially useless to the assignment.” He meant Wrendle, of course. I’d decided, if I was going to tell my brother classified information, I should at least invent codenames to keep some semblance of confidentiality.

“No, not him. I do like him, and he is nice, but he won’t be any help. I'm talking about Tulip,” I said.

“Aaah… the one with the beautiful eyes.”

“Shut up,” I said. He laughed lightly.

“And the teeth,” Ben stuck his tongue out. “So, he's…?”

“A criminal,” I stated firmly. “He basically said outright he was going to steal something for the other guy, the real person of interest, Billions.”

“Okay, well,” I looked at my brother, I knew that voice. I didn’t want to hear what he was about to say, but I didn’t have a choice.

“Ben,” I warned, but it was no use.

“C’mon, Juno. You don’t know anything about him! Maybe he's stealing a vaccine Billions can’t afford for his kid. You don’t know Tulip is a rotten guy just for working with Billions, you said Sparrow and Pal worked with him, too, and you thought they were decent people.”

He had a point. My brother never said anything unless he had a point. I all but hissed at him anyway. “I’m sure he isn’t stealing a vaccine, Benzaiten! I always wondered if Tulip might be bad news, but I let myself get distracted,” I scowled. “This isn’t a good sign, that’s all I’m saying. And that’s not even everything.”

“Go on, then,” he motioned for me to continue.

I huffed once again. “Well, now I need to get even closer to Tulip! He’s the only way I can get to Billions. I don’t know how I’m gonna do it, exactly, but I do know this: someone is gonna get hurt.” I breathed out.

“Ah,” Ben said. It was all he could say, because for once I was right, dammit. I didn’t want to be, though.

“Yeah. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to eat my feelings.” I stuck my fork in some food and braced myself for the next statement I was about to make. I did it quick, like ripping of a band-aid, “Also, I took a fucking star candy again last night, so my mind is mush. Don’t feel the need to yell at me about it, the haze is punishment enough.”

I heard Ben sigh heavily and frowned tightly after shoving some food in my mouth. I hated telling him whenever I took anything stronger than liquor or cannabis. He insisted he didn’t judge me, but after my first few rodeos, I wasn’t sure how it was possible that he didn’t. I was more open about it than I had been in the past, but that didn’t mean it would be a comfortable discussion.

“You know I wouldn’t yell at you for that,” he said slowly. Then, he asked, “Why, Juno?” When I didn’t respond, he quietly asked, “Why take it?”

I swallowed my bite, drank some coffee. He waited. “I felt like it,” I said eventually.

“Why did you feel like it?” he asked, voice gentle.

I considered it as I ate some more. He waited. “I was bored. It was free. I know I’m not addicted to it,” he said. 

“For now,” Ben said softly, quietly.

“And I won’t be,” I told him with a sigh. “It’s not even physically addictive," I muttered, an afterthought. An excuse.

“Okay,” he murmured. I had no idea if he believed me. I kept eating my food.

That seemed to be enough for him, thank God. I drank more of my coffee and settled into the couch, eventually turning on a movie that came recommended by Rita. For once, I was able to follow what happened.

After he left, I called in sick to the club and spent the rest of the day in bed, beating myself up and delaying the inevitable. In the evening I messaged Rita to arrange a meeting for the next day where I could lay out everything that happened and organize my thoughts.

My head felt better the next morning, but somehow nothing was clearer. The meeting with Rita came and went. She made sure I ate, bless her heart, and we got some work done.

I got ready slowly and spent another uneventful night at the club. I took to the pole at the start of the night, I saw two of my regulars and went through the motions with them, hung around Wrendle for a while, and danced for a few others I’d never met before. I didn’t see Rose. I was glad.

It was two more nights before I saw Rose again. When I did, thought, I shoved away all my complicated feeling and plastered a smile on my face.

“Hey, you,” I chirped. I twisted my finger around my hair. He smiled at me, bright and earnest.

“Hello, Dahlia. How are you?” his voice was smooth, pleasant. He looked happy to see me.

“Not too bad,” I said. “Yourself?”

“I'm wonderful, now that I’m in your company,” he was smirking. It was fun, flirty.

“You flatter me,” I said, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

“I only tell the truth, my darling,” he said. I gave an airy giggle. He bought me a drink.

We chatted idly, and once I finished the drink, he asked for a dance. I happily obliged. I’d managed to push the feelings away, getting lost in his company. He was a nice man, and his attention made me forget I was in a crowded bar.

It was more comfortable than it used to be, dancing. I selected the music, reminded of the feeling of power I got when I was dancing for him that one time. It occurred to me, as I slung my arms around his shoulders and dipped myself backwards, that he was one of my regulars too. I brought myself back up and held his gaze for a moment before smoothly switching positions so I was facing away from him.

“Breathtaking, as always,” he said as he paid a few minutes later. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and smirked at him.

I walked the floor after that, thinking. I needed to stay close to Rose, preferably get even closer. I wasn’t exactly sure what that would look like. He didn’t invite me to parties or stick around for lengths of time like Wrendle did- Wrendle was the unique one, of course. My other regulars were more like Rose, asking me for a drink and dance, chatting for just a bit, and going along their way.

He liked me, in some capacity, that much was clear. But how could I get him to spend more time with me?

I wrecked my brain and walked around, danced for a young woman who asked me to without much preamble, and then settled on a couch to think some more.

At some point, I saw Rose and Max talking again, at one of the tables closer to the stage. I frowned.

I spent a moment near the bar with Aria before she was called away, walked again, danced for a regular, and ended up back at the bar again. 

I needed to figure out a plan. It was time. I had pieces in play, I needed to figure out how to put them together.

It didn’t happen that night.

\--

A week went by. I had a movie night with Rita that ended up with me watching her play some game, I joined Mick for drinks and dinner, and had another spa day with Ben. This time, I got matte black nails with a red accent nail on each hand, my ring finger. They were still pointed. If I had to get them done again, I decided I might go with the ‘coffin’ shape, to shake it up a bit.

I gave a brief verbal update to Captain Khan, and he told me it seemed like I was “Getting on well” and to “keep working at it".

At the club, I saw Rose one more day that week. We kept flirting. It was easier to do, with him, just like dancing was easier to do for him. I kept wondering how I could get closer to him.

At the end of the week, I ran into Maximillian. This time, for real. I bounced against his chest and stumbled back, he grabbed my wrist to keep me from falling and it hurt for a second.

“Whoa there, little lady,” he said. I really wasn’t that little, I was practically 30 years old and over 6ft in my heels. He was still taller, with an imposing frame.

“Oops,” I said, trying to appear sheepish.

“You really have your head in the clouds, huh?” he laughed, and I didn’t think he was trying to sound mean. He still came across as a prick to me though.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. He seemed in a better mood than any of the other times I saw him. I stepped out of his way and he flashed me a smile before moving on.

I sank into a couch and watched him like a hawk. I saw him chat someone at the bar for a minute and realized I shouldn’t stare so intensely. Still, even glancing back and forth for a while, I saw when Rose approached him and watched as he clapped Rose on the back.

The thought occurred to me that the two of them said they owed each other something, and Rose said they would be done with one another once that was settled. I suddenly felt an urgency, and an anxiety, that wasn’t apparent before. I needed to get to Rose sooner rather than later, lest he stop working with Maximillian. I couldn’t watch my only real opportunity slip away.

I scratched at my arms with my nails, feeling sick. I still didn’t have a plan. How was I going to do this, on a time limit, with no fucking plan? This job would be the death of me. For once, I wasn’t even considering the idea welcoming.

I continued to fidget anxiously as I sat and thought. I almost didn’t notice when someone sat next to me.

“Hello, my darling,” I heard a purr. Well, speak of the devil.

“Rose,” I greeted, forcing a little smile. It was a bit too quick.

He brushed some hair from my shoulder. “Is everything alright, Dahlia?”

I nodded, “Mhmm.” I glanced away, more slowly, although I’d dropped the aloof thing with him a few lap dances ago. Why was it that he could read me like a goddamn book?

“Is that so?” He asked. I gave a little laugh.

“I’m fine. Promise,” I added. He probably thought I was high. It was becoming a regular enough occurrence, I thought bitterly. 

“If you insist,” he said. I looked back at him with a more normal smile.

“I just have a lot on my mind,” I said, softly. It was true, therefore it was easier to say and mean it.

“Ah, I see. Well, I may remind you that there is a standing invitation for you to talk to me, if you like. Of course, you needn’t feel pressured to,” he said. I sighed though my nose.

“Of course,” I said. “You know,” I said slowly, contemplative. I was making an effort to put my predicament out of my mind and play my Vixen role. I twirled my hair, “you’re much too good to me.”

“Please, Dahlia,” he said, voice reverent, “you deserve the world. The universe, in fact,” My heart squeezed in my chest.

I blushed and laughed. “You’re so sweet,” I whispered, and then looked up at him through my lashes.

“Would you like a drink, darling?” he asked, and I nodded. We walked to the bar with his hand on the small of my back. It felt comfortable, natural. It felt right. 

We both smiled as we chatted and drank, all teeth and sparkling eyes. It was so easy. It was too easy. This wasn’t just me being good at my job. God, I wondered if he knew that, knew how shit I was at this job when it wasn’t _him_ I flirting with. How could he know?

Maybe he did, though, deep down.

My hand was trailing down his arm, coming to rest at his wrist. “So?” I glanced back at the booths, genuinely hopeful. It was sickening.

The thought crossed my mind, what if he didn’t have time? Didn’t feel like a dance? The rejection would sting, but it shouldn’t, because that wasn’t what I was here to care about. I did anyway, care about it, that is.

Either way, I didn’t have to find out what it would feel like if he rejected me now. He grinned at me, nodded, and, without another word, he took me to the booths at the back.

And suddenly, the jitters from earlier returned, tenfold. I still hadn’t figured this out. Here I was, flirting, smiling, wanting him to like me. I was like a schoolkid with a crush. All the while, I was no closer to finishing my assignment than I was the night I met Buddy, not really. I took a breath to steady myself as he sat down.

I wasn’t a very good actor. Maybe he was less of a genius, observant person and I was more a person who always had my thoughts written straight across my face.

“Darling?” he said. I put on the music. I didn’t answer him.

“Dahlia,” he said, as I approached him. I sucked in another breath, my pulse quickening. “What's wrong?” he asked, standing before I could climb on him or anything.

I stood there, wanting to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. I looked into his eyes. His fingers carded through my hair, comforting. I whined, and he pulled back. “Please, my darling, tell me what it is. Has someone… touched you, hurt you?”

His hands were hovering at my shoulders, and I shook my head quickly.

“No, nothing like that. I mean- _that_ happens from time to time, the ‘touching’. It’s inevitable around here. That’s just a… job perk,” I said humourlessly, a dry laugh escaping. He looked unimpressed. I didn’t want to open that can of worms right now, this was hard enough as it was. “It’s not that,” I reaffirmed.

He sighed heavily. “I can’t force you to tell me, and I won’t try. At least let me know if there’s anything I can do to help?”

“It's just-" I started, fast, holding a finger up. I stopped myself. “You- you're, you’re too nice!” I said, exasperated.

My hands started shaking as I realized what I had to do, perhaps what I had been doing already, without intending to.

It could backfire. I could be misreading things entirely. Maybe there were other Vixens he treated just like me, maybe he just cared this much about everyone. I had to try anyway. For the assignment, I had to try. It was my best hope, quite possibly my only one, at not falling flat on my face with the task the department had given me.

“I'm… too nice, you say?” he looked perplexed. “Do you mean to say I’ve overstepped a boundary? I apologize, if that’s so,” he said, and I scowled.

“See! Like that,” I snapped, then schooled myself. I couldn’t be _me_ right now, I needed to reel it in. Be Dahlia, who isn’t nearly as impatient as Juno Steel. “You- you’re so sweet,” I tried again, reaching out and placing a clawed hand on his chest. “I should try to dance,” I said, weakly.

“Dahlia,” he said, but he let me push him back. The song was almost over. He sat down, but held my arms. “Love, I’m afraid you aren’t making much sense.”

“What did you just call me?” my eyes snapped to his. I spoke fast, hushed. He paled significantly. I wasn’t doing very well at reeling it in. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, “that crossed a line, I can see how that crossed a line. I won’t do it again.” I nodded, quickly, then settled in his lap. I heard him say, “oh.” softly I felt his hands at my hips.

I could only assume he thought I would back away rather than get closer.

“Do you want to know what’s bothering me?” I asked slowly, my voice low and quiet and, frankly, bordering on angry. I was bad at this. I kept going, anyway.

“I have said repeatedly that I do, Dahlia,” he told me simply, looking confused. Perhaps a touch scared.

“I-,” deep breath, “I can’t take it back, once I’ve said it,” I said, my eyes darting to his lips, my face near his.

“I am willing to take the risk,” he said firmly. I laughed softly.

“I think you’re beautiful,” I whispered, looking from his eyes to his mouth slowly.

“And that… that bothers you?” he asked, the ever-present confidence in his voice waning for a moment. It made me feel powerful, in a sick way, hearing him falter like that.

I nodded, my face tilted over his so my hair nearly brushed against his skin. “Your eyes are beautiful. I can’t stop thinking about them. I can’t stop thinking about _you,_ Rose,” I confessed. At the very least, it was true. I didn’t like it, it was wasn’t easy for me to say, but it was _true_.

“Oh,” I heard him murmur.

“I don’t know if I’m misreading things,” I whispered, a surprising amount of emotion in my voice. “You say you care, but I don’t know to what extent. You said you understand our relationship, but… I don’t know if _I_ do,” I said. I was looking at his lips the whole time, but mostly just to avoid his eyes. He stayed silent.

Finally, I lifted my eyes to his, and delivered my final blow. “I like you,” I said, my voice catching. “I like you a lot. More than I should. More than I should like a client- even a sweet, regular client who always treats me right. I think about you all the time, I don’t want our relationship to be a professional one. I’m scared I misread the signs,” I finally looked away again, my heart feeling like it would beat out of my chest. “Please tell me I didn’t misread the signs,” I said, barely audible.

“I,” he started, and I felt his hand brush though my hair, the other one tightening where it was on my hips.

I glanced at him, pressing my lips together tightly as I waited his reaction.

He cleared his throat and went on, “In any other situation, I would simply kiss you. But I don’t wish to be inappropriate, given that you’re still on the clock,” he said. I looked at him, momentarily incredulous.

“God, shut up,” I muttered, as I threaded my fingers through his hair and pressed my lips to his.

After one beat, possibly of surprise, he kissed me back with passion.

Jackpot.

He brought his hands back to my hips, where he was allowed, holding me close. As I parted my lips, I let out a moan and thought, for just a second, it had been a while since I’d had a first kiss that made me audibly moan. My tongue tangled with this and I tugged on his hair. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but I didn’t want it to end.

I was panting when I parted, so was he. “Fuck,” I whispered. He laughed.

“Um,” I said, sitting back some so I could look at him. I put my wrists on his shoulders.

“Yes, my darling?” he looked at me like I’d hung the moon in the sky. It was startling, and it made my heart soar.

“What now?” I asked, my voice small. It wasn’t just directed at him. My brain was screaming that very same question back at me. What now?

Still, I listened to his answer. “Well, I suppose you should get back to work,” he said, and I blinked up at him, unable to mask the wounded look on my face. “And then, darling, I find you once your shift is over and I take you home to ravish you,” he explained. My face burned at how plainly he said it, and he was grinning at me.

“Your place,” I said, and he nodded.

“That works for me,” he agreed. 

“And,” I started, hesitating, “after that? In the morning?”

“We go from there,” he said. “I like you too, Dahlia, make no mistake. I don’t believe we should rush into things, at least, I don’t think it would be wise to do so. But, I would like to… see you. Outside of this place. Were you not thinking the same thing when you made your confession?”

“Honestly, I only thought up to the point of telling you, and had no idea what might come after,” I said, and it was the truth. Considering I had decided to say what I did exactly the moment in which I said it. He laughed.

“Always so bold. I like that about you,” he sounded smitten. My stomach did a flip. His hands were now clasped around my back.

“Mhmm,” I said. I looked around us. The music had long since stopped playing and returned to the soft idle song. I could hear the noises of the club muffled in the background. “This is gonna sound silly, but… this won’t bother you, right? You know I’m a Vixen. That won’t be an issue, if we're seeing each other?” For some reason, I didn’t let him get a word in, adding, “I need this job, y’know? I can’t leave my job for a man. Even one as beautiful as you.”

He laughed, “It would be quite strange of me to find issue with that, but at the same time, I understand where you’re coming from. No, Dahlia, it doesn’t bother me. I would never ask you to leave your job for me.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Okay,” I said. I looked at the curtain and sighed. “I should probably…”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. I got off his lap. He tried to pay for the dance but I refused to allow him, seeing as I didn’t dance and I didn’t want to feel like he paid me to make out with him. He relented, when I said that.

I went back out into the club, but my mind was swimming. I walked around, but never stopped long enough for anyone to talk to me. I couldn’t just dance for someone else after that, even if it didn’t bother Rose. All I could think of way going back to his place, anxiety and anticipation mingling in my core.

I started packing up 20 minutes earlier than I should have, and then set out to find him. He was at the far end of the bar, closest to the entrance. I smiled shyly as I tapped him on the shoulder, and he grinned at me.

“One moment, darling,” he said, and he reconciled his tab. He walked me outside and called for a cab.

“You know,” I started, trying to be nonchalant. “I… don’t actually mind, if you call me love,” I said, face burning. He raised his brows and smiled at me. “Now, anyway,” I shrugged.

“Okay,” he said, then added, “love.” I laughed. He brushed my hair back, and I leaned up. He was taller, again, with my lack of heels.

We kissed until the cab arrived, and he put his hand on my thigh as it drove us to his place.

When we arrived, I recognized the building. It was one that had both yearly leases, and month-to-month as well as week-to-week contracts. So, he could be a short-term resident. That was interesting.

The décor made me think he likely hadn’t been there long, or perhaps that he wasn’t planning on staying. There were a couple nice pictures hanging, but it didn’t feel particularly well lived in, and the décor in general wasn’t fully cohesive. By the way he dressed, I knew he had more style than that.

However, I didn’t have much time to stare at the walls. True, he hung up my coat, sat me on a dark red couch, and got me some water. Then, his hands were tilting my face towards his and his lips were on mine.

Climbing into his lap was second nature by now. This time, though, he could put his hands wherever he wanted.

And he did. His hands trailed up my back, then down, and over my thighs. I moaned against him as he pulled me close, hands digging into my ass. I pressed my hips to his in a desire to get even closer.

He pulled back from my lips and kissed my neck. I groaned, my hands running up and down his sides. I didn’t even care to tell him not to leave a mark, I had strong enough makeup to cover bruises by now. I rocked my hips against his and heard him moan this time.

I wanted to hear him say my name, but not the one he knew me by.

“Rose,” I whined, playing with his hair as he kissed down my chest, “please.”

“My darling,” he punctuated it with a kiss, “love,” he said, then pulled back. “Will you allow me to show you to the bedroom?” he asked.

I almost laughed at him. I did make a little noise of amusement in my throat. “ _Please,”_ I said, slipping off his lap in a fluid enough motion.

He led me to the bedroom. As we walked, I took the elastic that I had grabbed from the dressing room off of my wrist and pulled my hair into a haphazard bun. I knew from experience with long haired lovers, it was only going to be a nuisance in the bedroom.

Once there, he turned on one lamp before I was collected in his arms. We kissed, standing at the foot of his bed, as he slipped his hands up under my dress, pulling it up slowly as he went. We parted long enough to get it over my head.

“Well, this seems unfair,” I said, looking at him in a dress shirt and full length slacks as I stood in nothing but skimpy black underwear on my legs. He laughed lightly and started to unbutton his shirt. I went to twirl my hair out of habit, but it was all pulled back.

::

“Please, sit,” as he slid his shirt off his shoulders. I obliged, perched on the edge with my hands on my thighs.

He shucked off his pants, leaving us in the same state of undress.

I sucked in a breath.

“If you want to stop, at any point, just say so,” he told me.

“I doubt I’ll want to stop, but, noted. Same goes for you,” I said. He smiled at me.

“Of course.”

For once, it was him climbing on top of me. He pressed me back into the bed, kissed me until I was breathless and then moved down, kissing the other side of my neck. One of his hands steadied him, and the other caressed my body.

It wasn’t too long before he slipped that hand between my legs and I gasped. I was soaked for him. My underwear was pushed aside, the thin strip of fabric it was, and his fingers brushed against the hair I refused to wax, before dipping between my folds and finding out just how wet I was.

I couldn’t hold back the noise I made if I wanted to. I heard him whisper something about how beautiful I was.

He touched my clit, soft, gentle, swirling around with a great level of dexterity.

“Do you like this?” he asked, as if he didn’t know. But, he didn’t sound smug, just curious.

Attentive through and through. “Yes,” I choked out. So, he kept doing it.

Moments later, his fingers dipped down again, sinking into me. I whined, loudly. He fucked me slowly like that.

“Do you like it when I do that?” he asked. Maybe he sounded a bit smug this time.

“Uh huh,” I groaned, nodding. Then I said, “faster.”

“Of course,” he said, gentle. He pressed a kiss to my temple and sped up, going a bit harder along with it. I pressed my hips forward, moving with him.

“God,” I whined. He was talented.

He didn’t stay like that long enough to get me off, though. I whined once more at the loss when he moved. Then, he started kissing down my chest, and even further, crawling back off the bed as he went.

He settled between my legs, and I lifted my hips when he went to pull off the underwear. He pushed my thighs further apart. I watched him intently for a moment, and as I lifted my head eyes back towards the ceiling, I felt his tongue on me.

I cried out loudly, one hand coming to play with his hair, making sure to be careful of my nails. My other hand was twisted in the sheets beside me. He licked my clit and then sucked, hard, before lapping between my folds.

I was putty in his hands, melting on his tongue. Kneeling before me, he brought me to the edge, then past.

I came, hard, gasping and panting out moans.

He was back up on me a few moments later, encouraging me to shuffle back into the middle of the bed. I obliged.

“Was that good?” he asked, both genuinely curious and a bit teasing again.

“Fuck you,” was my response, and he laughed.

“I would like fuck you. In fact, that was what I planned to do next,” he said. I laughed too.

“You don’t want me to… touch you?” I trailed my hand down his chest, a question on my face.

“Let me focus on you tonight, love. I'm having fun,” he said. I just nodded. Maybe it was part of the gentleman shtick.

He went to the bedside table for a moment and I relaxed on the bed to catch my breath. I saw him take out a condom. I was at no risk of pregnancy, of course- I had a vagina, but no ovaries. Thank fuck. But, it occurred to me I hadn’t asked if he had been checked for STIs lately. While it wasn’t _exactly_ too late now, I didn’t feel like bringing it up. I never claimed to be a responsible person. In fact, my irresponsible and frankly self-destructive tendencies were well known to both myself and those close to me.

Still, it was like he read my damn mind.

“I don’t mean to ruin the mood, but I believe it important to say: I haven’t been intimate with anyone since the last time I was tested, and those tests came up free of infections.”

“Same,” I said drly, quickly. It was true, I wouldn’t lie about that. “Are you quite ready?” I asked. He laughed again.

“My, my. Impatient, aren’t we?” he asked, coming up to me again. He slid his hand down the side of my body.

“Maybe a little,” I said, and he kissed me. I ran my hands up and down his chest, and he held my hip. “It’s been a while,” I added.

“Hmm. Perhaps you should be determining the speed, then,” he said. He pulled back from me and I pouted at him. He moved towards the top of the bed and sat down, then beckoned me with a finger. I got up and crawled to him, understanding his line of thinking.

“This works,” I said, climbing in his lap yet again. This time, though, his cock was out between us, rather than just hardening under me.

I took his cock, careful of my nails, and slid it between my folds. We both moaned at the feeling. I bit my lip and he held my hips in the usual place as I pressed him to my entrance and slowly lowered myself onto him.

“Fuck,” I groaned. It felt so good. I started to move, little rolls of my hips at first. His eyes roamed my face and explored my body.

I gripped his shoulders as I rode him less delicately. I hadn’t fucked anyone since getting the damn nails, so I only hoped I wouldn’t draw blood. Somehow, I doubt that would be the thing he faulted me for. He was entirely too sweet and understanding for that.

His hands cupped my backside and he fucked up into me a bit as I moved. We went fairly slowly, all things considered. I wanted to savor it, letting myself gasp and whine. It was the best fuck I’d had in a long time. Go figure.

At some point, I repeated the motion I’d done at the club some nights ago, taking his hands and guiding them across my chest, touching my pecks without the dress in the way this time. When I let him go, he slid his hands to my back and pressed me closer, kissing me passionately.

“Rose,” I groaned against his lips.

“Hmm?” he looked at me, a dreamy smile on his face.

“I want you to lay me back and fuck me into the mattress, now,” I told him.

He looked at me with primal hunger in his eyes and said, “It would be my pleasure, darling.”

I laughed, because I couldn’t help myself. I loved the way he spoke, his voice was the best music I’d ever heard. He smiled at me and I dismounted, lying back down beside him. He got back between my legs and hooked his hands under my knees, sliding back into me with relative ease.

As requested, he pounded into me quite mercilessly. My moaning was less soft and more screaming, at that point. I’m not sure when, but I puts my hands on his back, clinging to him as I groaned out things like “faster” “harder” “fuck” “god” “please” “yes”.

He whispered into my ear that I was beautiful, radiant, gorgeous, and wonderful. I almost laughed. Maybe I did laugh a couple times, with the sheer ecstasy of it. He was perfect.

He slipped one of his hands between us and got me off a second time. I cried out, and he slowed down until the waves of pleasure had largely run their course. Then, I used my leg to press him forward again and he got the message.

He came inside me within the condom, and by the time he slid out of me, my bones were complete jelly and my forehead was plastered with sweat. He was gone for a second, I assumed to tie off the condom and get rid of it, then he was lying back next to me on his side, a smile on his lips.

::

“Was that alright?” he asked, definitely teasing this time.

“You’re a smug bastard,” I told him. He laughed.

“I like this side of you,” he said fondly. I wanted to push him off the bed. Instead, I turned towards him, and he cupped my face and kissed me.

“You mean the side that wants me to fuck you?” I said, innocently. “I can see why,” I added.

He scoffed. “You know that’s not what I meant. I meant the sarcasm. Of course, I’m amenable to the side that wants me to fuck you as well.”

I laughed, tilting my head back. “Funny. I didn’t peg you as the type that wanted me to be mean to you,” I said. He raised a brow. “Some of my regulars want me to be mean, some of them like my snark, mixed in with genuine smiles and flirting,” I explained. “I assumed you were the latter, which, well, that’s what you’ve been getting,” I said, my face burning for some reason.

“Ah, I see,” he said.

“Obviously, it’s more than that,” I said quickly, “with you. Only with you.”

“Don’t fret, darling,” he said. “I want to hear these things. I want to know _you_ , and your job is part of you.”

“Mhhh,” I said. “Well, you’re there all the time, so I’d think you’d have a good idea of that,” I said, teasing again.

“Fair enough,” he laughed.

“Of course, I like it better when you’re there,” I added. Snarky, but still sweet. I sighed inwardly.

“And you say _I’m_ too sweet,” he said. We laughed again and I kissed him. “I adore getting to speak with you so candidly, my darling. But.. we should probably consider sleeping,” he said gently.

“Mhmmm. Yeah,” I admitted. “Um,” I sat up, “where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” he said, getting up, “do you need something to wear?” He went over to a drawer and slipping into some lilac coloured pants.

I watched him move and almost forgot the question he asked. “Uh, maybe, yeah. I have a t-shirt and jeans I wore to work, the t-shirt would be fine to sleep in, but,” I grimaced. I had slept in jeans enough times to know I didn’t really want to, not that night. I sat up, on the edge of the bed.

He took out another pair of pants, as well as a crisp white t-shirt. “Here you are, darling,” he said, holding them out to me. “The bathroom is on the right, before the kitchen,” he said. I nodded, taking the clothing and walking out of his bedroom door.

I found the bathroom easily, and took a moment to clean myself up. I realized I still had my club makeup on. Thankfully, he had the supplies for makeup removal. I had noticed him usually wearing winged eyeliner, possibly more that, but it was hard to tell in the light of the club.

Now that I’d left the bedroom, my heart was sinking, fast. The actions that I had just taken were settling in and my mind was screaming at me.

I wanted to run. I probably could. I could go back in there, stammer out that “This was really great, I liked it, I can’t wait to see you again, but I’d actually rather be more comfortable sleeping in my own bed”. He wouldn’t fault me that. He’d be the perfect gentleman, as always.

I should stay. For the assignment, if not for anything else. This could work, if he had anything on Max. It was a big if, but not as big as it could be, because I knew they owed each other something.

As I wiped away the makeup, I thought, perhaps, I could stay long enough for him to sleep and go through his stuff, then high tail it out of here and never see him again. He might have something, if I looked through his things- notes, maybe some sort of paper trail. 

I used his mouthwash and spit it out into the sink. That was way too risky. If he was any good, and it seemed like he was, there’s no way he’d be that sloppy to keep anything that I would get to so easily. I had been in it for the long haul this whole time, that’s what an assignment like this was. I had to stay.

I put on the shirt he gave me. I knew it would be too big for him. Considering everything he wore seemed tailored, perhaps he had it exclusively for situations like this. The fabric was soft. I slipped on the pants as well, brushed through my hair, moving slowly. I did anything to delay going back.

Eventually, though, I’d run out of things to do except stare at my reflection. I wondered if he would comment on the scar on my face as soon as he saw it, since he wouldn’t have seen it before. I knew the difference in my looks was drastic, from day to night.

I sighed and flicked off the lights before I could keep myself there any longer. I walked back into the hall and into his room.

There was less light than before, he’d turned off the one lamp in favor of a smaller one right next to the bed. He was reading something, sitting up. He smiled at me when I crawled into bed next to him, raising a brow.

“Surprised to see I’m still here?” I asked, unable to help myself. I was never good at helping myself.

“Should I be?” he asked. He put the book aside and lied next to me.

“I dunno,” I breathed.

“You don’t have to stay, you know. I’m sorry if I was presumptuous by even implying you would, but, well, it’s almost light out, and I figured you’d be awfully tired,” he said, looking bashful. 

“I’m already in bed,” I muttered. He looked pleased. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and then turned off the light.

“Goodnight, Dahlia.”

“More like good morning,” I mumbled. “Sleep well.”

“You too, darling,” he said, letting out an airy laugh. I liked the sound.

I had to be awake another 30 minutes after I heard him snore lightly. I wanted to laugh when I heard it. It was quiet enough to be cute, endearing. I did laugh, at that thought, to myself.

Eventually, I must have fallen asleep, because before I knew it, there was bright light streaming in from the window. I pulled the sheets over my head and realized they weren’t the same colour as mine.

My legs were frequently sore, with the pole dancing, and the heels, and everything. A certain part of me was sore that wasn’t quite so regularly sore, though, and I sighed aloud.

The bedsheets weren’t a colour I recognized, because I wasn’t in my bed. I rolled onto my back carefully, and pulled the sheets down enough to look around the room, sitting up slowly.

Rose was nowhere in sight. I placed hand on his pillow. It wasn’t cold or warm.

I desperately wanted water. When I looked to the end table next to me, there was a glass there. I drank it. It was still cold.

Then, I heard the door open, and I heard humming. Rose was walking in, a towel over his shoulder, wearing slacks.

“Good morning, darling. Well. Afternoon,” he said with a laugh in his voice.

“Hi,” I said, glancing away from him. He went over to his closet and pulled out a dress shirt in mauve.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed as he pulled the shirt over his shoulders. I saw scratches on his back for just a second and my eyes went wide. “No?” he asked, concern flashing.

“What?” I said, and then looked up at him. “Oh, uh, I slept fine. I just… your back,” I said, glancing down at my hands for a second.

“Oh, yes, you did quite a number,” He laughed. He leaned forward on the bed and caught my lips with his.

“Sorry,” I said, after we parted. “I’m still not that used to them. I, uh, I never wore them like this, before I took... the job,” I said, pressing the claws into my own palm lightly as I tensed my hands.

“No worries, love,” he said, kissing me again. I kissed him back, leaning forward. “I’ve endured far worse, and I would endure far worse again, for you,” he said against my lips.

I felt heat rise to me cheat. “You’re shameless,” I told him, he laughed.

“I don’t deny that. I simply know what I want,” he said. God, I wish that were me.

“And what do you want?” I asked him, looking from his eyes to his lips and back again.

“You,” he said lowly. “I thought that was quite obvious at this point.”

It was my turn to laugh. “But you’re getting dressed,” I said, as he touched my side, hand slipping under the white shirt I’d borrowed.

“That course of action can be corrected,” he said simply. I started unbuttoning the shirt he had _literally_ just done up. Then, we had sex again.

After that, I asked for a bath towel and got in his shower. He made us some breakfast and coffee, so, by the time I was done the smell was wafting towards me. I pushed my hair back, styling it differently than I did at the club, more out of my face. I hoped, a bit more masculine. I liked feeling femme, sure, but now that I had that on _all the time_ at the club, I felt like being more masc in the day-to-day.

I put on the clothes from yesterday, my t-shirt and jeans.

After that, I joined him at the table, and made a comment that I only ever ate at a table when I was out a restaurant. He gave me a perplexed look, as if wondering where else one would eat, and told me it was an interesting choice. I laughed.

“Do you have to work tonight, darling?” he asked. “Also,” he said, “your comms has been going off since you’ve been in the shower.”

“Ugh, Rita,” I said, before I could stop myself. He perked a brow. “My best friend,” I said. Hey, it _was_ true. She just also happened to be an office assistant at my precinct, too. “I check in with her most days, she’s probably just antsy,” also true.

“Ah, of course. It’s good, to have reliable friends,” he said. I nodded.

“Oh, and no, I don’t have to work. I do have plans with Rita, though,” I said. A half-truth, because we _would_ have plans, as soon as I was out of out Rose’s apartment and could speak to her. It was much too risky to do it with how loudly she’d greet me with ‘MISTAH STEEL!’

“Of course, that’s just as well,” he said. “I have some business I must attend to, this eve,” he told me. I hummed.

“You’re a businessman, then?” I asked, batting my lashes. “Y’know, you know an awful lot about my job, but I don’t know much about yours,” I said. He regarded me carefully. I didn’t think that was enough to make him suspicious.

“I suppose that’s true,” he said, then smiled. “I deal in business, yes. But it’s dreadful stuff for most people. Boring,” he sniffed. I nodded. I felt like I could push, but I didn’t want to. Then, I lost my opportunity. “I hope we can make plans to see one another outside of Vixen Valley again sometime soon,” he went on, “although, I also understand if I’ve been too forward up to this point and continue to be each time I speak.”

I chuckled. “You’re not too forward,” I said. “If that was going to scare me, I think it would have done so a while ago,” I said, and he tilted his head back and forth, looking a bit sheepish.

“Yes, of course. I’m afraid I’m not very skilled in preventing myself from getting what I’d like, at least not when it’s being rather readily offered,” he said, measured, but amused. “I do worry, on occasion, I’ll overstep, though. Please tell me if I do.”

“I will,” I said, nodding. I liked being praised and worshipped by him. Who wouldn’t, though? It was hard to have the attention of a man like him and not want to bask in it. I just had to make sure I could keep my head straight all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is explicit sex in this chapter! This is the only instance it happens, tho, so I've marked it with :: :: if you do still want to avoid it.
> 
> For a lil more info about it: I've written Juno as amab, but he's had had bottom surgery and has a vagina. during sex, Rose (Nureyev, obviously) fingers Juno, eats him out, and they have penetrative sex.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note there's a brief discussion of suicide in this chapter near the end so please be cautious!

I finished breakfast at Rose’s place, and he kissed me a few times near the door, then he comm’d a cab to take me back home. I had it take me to the office instead. I made a beeline for Rita’s little cubicle and shoved myself in next to her with a chair I’d plucked from near the wall.

“Mistah Steel!” she yelled, startling enough to send some of her snacks over her desk. “Have you even checked your comms? I’ve been calling you for _hours_.” There was a stream playing on her monitor- silent, but with subtitles.

“I know. I was with a… target? A person of interest, to the assignment,” I said quickly, voice a bit hushed. 

“What happened to your neck?” she hissed as I shrugged off my trench coat. The bruises were deep and I hadn’t put any makeup over them. “Was it another one of them ‘raccoons’?” she whispered, her eyes alight with mirth.

“Fuck off,” I said. “Actually, are there any free meeting rooms? I have a lot to tell you about the assignment.”

“Agh, let’s just get out of here,” Rita said, standing up, waving her hand. I muttered an “okay?” and put my coat back on, then followed her out of the precinct. I wondered if she was actually allowed to just leave like that. Surely she wasn’t supposed to be watching a stream on the clock either, though, so I let it go.

She chattered about something unrelated as she drove us back to my place.

“Okay, Mistah Steel,” she said, as we sat down in front of my wall, the one with the notes on it. “What on Mars happened?”

I launched into my story, sparing the… unnecessary details. She drilled me for them anyway, so I spluttered out a couple things.

“You _had sex?!_ With a _person of interest?”_ she screeched.

“Rita, focus! That isn’t the important part!”

“Like hell it ain’t, Mistah Steel! So, how was it?”

“Fantastic. Can we please focus?” she squee’d, and then relented. I gave her as much detail about what I was thinking, what I was planning, as I could. And as I did that, I realized that I was still flying by the seat of my pants.

“Well, I think it makes perfect sense,” Rita says. “You get close to the guy, and catch him up validating your suspicions about the criminal activity. He’s bound to verify whether he’s dealing with weapons or human trafficking _eventually_ , or at least point you to someone who is,” Rita waved her hand. “Now, tell me more about your _night_!” she grinned.

I was comforted, slightly, by Rita’s faith in my flimsy, non-plan. For all my work, it still amounted to hanging around and waiting. Talking to people, which wasn’t my forte, and hoping they’d say something incriminating. It felt lackluster, and dull. I sighed.

At least Rita was usually right about these sort of things, though I couldn’t be sure how. Maybe she just spoke things into existence.

We ended up watching two movies, none of which I followed at all because Rita would periodically start yammering in the middle of them, and we’d get caught in an unrelated conversation until her third “favourite part” in a row would start and we’d shut up for another minute. We ordered in some food.

She also helped me set up an alternate comms number, going to my same device, but unable to be traced, that I could give to Rose if he wanted to get in touch. It was a good idea. I hadn’t even known that was possible.

It was late when Rita left, as it usually was. I had to admit- I felt a lot better, when she was there, and for a while after.

Of course, my spiraling thoughts returned to me at some point, wondering how I would get out of this hole I’d dug.

Regardless, though, I had breakfast with Benzaiten tomorrow. He was in a sour mood because of a spat going on between two of the dancers. We talked about the book he’d recommended to me, that I had _actually_ listened to this time, and told me he was excited for the new one that was coming out. It was a classic midnight release, with an author signing. He said he wasn’t going to stay up that late to go, but it was still a fun thought.

It was nice to listen to him talk for a while and pretend I didn’t have other stuff eating away at my brain.

I saw Rose at the club the next night, and let him take me home. We had more mind-blowing sex. I said I couldn’t stay the night that time, and he asked me out to dinner to go on “a proper date”. I agreed, we decided to go out in three day’s time.

I hated my heart for how it fluttered when he kissed me goodbye.

The next night after that, I was invited to a “small soiree” by Wrendle. I left work for it, seeing as Rose wasn’t there. Aria came with, too. I wondered if she and Wren might not have something like Rose and I had. Or, what Rose thought we had, because, it wasn’t exactly _real_ , was it? Even if it felt like it was.

The distraction was welcome. So far, my time with Rose was spent mostly being ravished and worshipped, which was _fun,_ but it wasn’t important to the assignment. Stupidly, I never pressed him. I wasn’t asking him to say much other than sweet nothings. In fact, I’d say my behaviour was encouraging that from him. I was frustrated, but unsure of a way forward, so I might as well just pretend it wasn’t pressing. An excellent plan.

I was surprised to see that it was actually quite lowkey, at Wrendle’s party. There were only a few handfuls of people milling about, soft music playing. Wrendle even swept Aria and I into a room and gave us longer dresses, because the skimpy club clothes were actually out of place. He told us they were a party favor and left us to get dressed. Aria laughed.

I couldn’t stop the delight on my face when I saw Buddy, nor the warmth in my heart when she returned that same expression.

“Dahlia, darling!” she called. “Oh, I’d hoped you’d come,” she said. “Please, sit with us.”

She had her arm around a woman with green hair. I sat, smoothing out the dress I was wearing. There was a slit up the leg, but it was tasteful.

“Buddy, it’s good to see you again,” I said, looking around. It was the same type of room as the last party that had been held.

“Dahlia, I’d like you to meet my wife, Vespa,” she said, gesturing to the woman beside her. Vespa raised a brow at me.

“Hello,” I said.

“This is the stripper you liked so much?” Vespa asked, and Buddy laughed.

“Vespa! Play nice,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Vixen, I guess. Or is it ‘lap dancer’, not ‘stripper’,” Vespa said. Buddy blushed, I laughed.

“I know what my own job entails, and so do both of you,” I said. Buddy nodded.

“You two would like one another, I just know it,” Buddy insisted. Vespa rolled her eyes. I felt that.

“I’d understand if you don’t want to pal around with someone who dances for your wife,” I said, shrugging a shoulder.

“Ack, that doesn’t bother me. I tell Bud this, all the time! There are distinct differences between being with someone, and paying them to be with you. And, obviously, there’s a huge difference between consensual exploration and cheating,” Vespa rolled her eyes again. Buddy drank some champagne.

“It’s exactly as I told you that night, Dahlia,” Buddy said. “Besides, my wife knows there’s only one thing she need do, if she didn’t want me to pay another to dance for me.”

“Tell you she didn’t want you to?” I offered.

“Well, that,” Buddy said. “Of course, she’d also have to dance for me herself.”

Vespa groaned in the back of her throat and I felt that, too. There was a salacious grin on Buddy’s face as she eyed her wife. It felt almost inappropriate to be seeing it, the heat in her eyes, plus genuine delight she had from what had to be an old discussion between the two, oft revisited.

“Bud, I’ve told you time and time again. You’re the dancer in this relationship, not me,” Vespa gave another roll of her eyes, but I saw the smile in her eyes as she looked towards Buddy. They were _disgustingly_ in love with each other.

I laughed, a bit awkward. It was hard to begrudge them for that sort of thing, though.

“I think I’ll leave you be,” I said delicately.

“Oh, my apologies,” Buddy said, tearing her gaze from Vespa’s.

“That’s wise, kid. It’s about to get ugly here,” Vespa said, and Buddy shot her a little look.

“No, no, I can take a hint,” I stood up, smiling.

Buddy looked at her wife, then at me. She was torn, but I knew what her decision would be. “Do come back around later, Dahlia, I would actually like to chat,” she said. Vespa was pulling her face towards her, and I laughed.

“Noted,” I said, and I walked away as they kissed each other, surprisingly chaste. I felt like a pawn in their flirtatious game, but, I still couldn’t bring myself to resent them for it. It occurred to me that Buddy looked at Vespa like how Rose looked at me.

My heart clenched and I shoved that thought away, wandering into the kitchenette to get some water. Aria hooped her arm in mine when she saw me, looking delightful the cream coloured dress that Wrendle had given her.

I idly asked if she knew what the purpose of the party was, and she told me it was just because Wrendle wanted to bring his friends together in a less hectic setting. There were no drugs, or even hard spirits. Just champagne, soda, water, and finger foods.

She and I walked back into the sitting room and we spotted Big Guy, Buddy’s tall friend. He looked more relaxed, I thought, but maybe that was projection.

“Hey there,” I said, and the two of us sat across from him.

“Hello again,” he said. “How are you two?”

I looked at Aria, and she went first, talking about what was going on in her life. She was picking up a new hobby, calligraphy, and Big Guy said it sounded “wonderful”. They chatted about it, what she was learning. She was every bit warm and charming, but a lot less flirty than she would be at the club. I crossed my ankle over my knee and leaned back, rather than sitting up proper and girly. Then, I crossed my arms over my middle without worrying it might make me seem too closed off. It was nice, to not have the stripper-sona turned on.

“And yourself, Dahlia?” Big Guy asked.

“Oh, me?” I said. Aria smiled warmly. “Nothing much, really. I had a movie night with my best friend the other day?” I said. It was true, at least. 

“What movie did you watch?” Big Guy asked.

“Uh. I don’t remember. We talked the whole way through,” Aria laughed.

“Blasphemy!” she said, “what’s the point of watching it, then?”

I laughed, “Beats me. She insists on putting them on, anyway. You don’t know my best friend, her mind goes about 100miles per hour and the rest of us are just along for the ride,” I said, fondness in my voice.

“She sounds fun,” Aria said with a smile.

“She’s very fun,” I nodded.

“Hello darlings,” I heard Buddy’s voice greet. Big Guy shuffled a bit on the couch he was on and Buddy and Vespa sat down.

“Buddy,” Big Guy greeted.

“Jet,” she said with a smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all,” he said. “Dahlia was telling us about his best friend.”

I laughed a bit. “Just what a force of nature she is, that’s all.”

“That’s a wonderful quality in a friend,” Buddy said with a smile.

“Yeah, she’s great,” I rolled my eyes a little. “We’re not… the touchy-feely type, though. Or, I’m not, and she puts up with me anyway,” I said. There was some laughter, at that.

“It takes all kinds,” Buddy said in an assuring way.

“Anything new with anybody else?” Aria asked, sensing I was done with the line of questioning, no doubt. “It’s been a while, Buddy. How’s the bar?”

“Oh, business as usual,” Buddy said. Vespa lifted her glass of water and drank. “Nothing much to report.”

“Yourself, Vespa?” Aria asked. I hadn’t realized Aria knew Buddy’s wife.

“I’m fine,” Vespa shrugged. “Can’t complain too much,” she put her arm around Buddy, this time. Sickening.

“Yes, the two of you are very in love,” Big Guy -Jet, I guess, said. We all laughed.

“How about this?” Buddy said, her visible eye crinkling with a smile, “why don’t play a game? Guess-the-Drawing, perhaps?”

Vespa and I groaned at the same time. Buddy grinned and we all laughed again. They were a nice group to be around.

I shifted to the side when Wrendle came to join us and sit next to Aria. “What’s all the laughter here?”

“What, you only like fun when you’re involved in it?” Buddy asked. He smiled.

“Naturally. Can’t miss out now, can I, Bud?”

“I suppose not. My wonderful idea to play a game has been ceremoniously shot down by both my darling wife, and Dahlia, here,” Buddy lifted her chin.

“We don’t even have the materials, Bud, how are we gonna play Guess-the-Drawing?” Vespa pointed out.

“Hang on, there’s probably some paper here,” Wrendle said and got up.

“Oh no,” I muttered.

And, so, I was roped into a game of Guess-the-Drawing. Buddy and Vespa were a team, as were Wrendle and Aria. I got paired with Jet. It turned out fine, because he ended up being a kick-ass artist.

I hugged him when we won the first round, and he patted me on the back sympathetically when we lost the second round to Buddy and Vespa. By the last round, we had a group of spectators in the other party-goers.

That last round came down to sudden death between us and the Aurinko’s. Wrendle and Aria were just laughing at each other and their equally terrible drawings.

“Hah! Suck it!” Vespa snarled at me when she and Buddy won. I groaned.

“Jet, how could you let them take it!” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. Obviously it was his fault for not guessing my drawing, dammit.

We flitted elsewhere so some others could play the game. Settling on a different set of couches, we shuffled seats, with me sitting opposite of Vespa, and Wrendle between Aria and I.

“It was a fair game. We were equally matched, it was up to only the small details and luck,” Jet said. Vespa was laughing cruelly, and I sat moodily, but I was smiling anyway.

“Don’t be such a sore winner, Ves,” Buddy said.

“I’ll be as sore as I want, Bud,” she replied.

Our conversation moved along, Wrendle talking about a new business venture he was looking into. It was above-ground, no criminal activity. Buddy offered to talk through the details later on when it started to get boring, and Wrendle thanked her sincerely.

I noticed, before long, Vespa seemed to start getting antsy. It wasn’t incredibly apparent, but she kept looking over her shoulder.

“Darling?” I heard Buddy say. Clearly she noticed, too. 

“It’s… getting late, Bud,” Vespa said. She looked a bit tired.

“That is true,” Buddy said. She smiled at us. “We should take our leave. Jet, are you comfortable finding your way home?”

“Of course,” he said.

We said our goodbyes. Buddy gave hugs, Vespa messed with my hair, which I yelled about despite not giving a damn about my hair.

After they left, the four of us left kept talking. Some of Wrendle’s other friends joined us, and we were all introduced. I had a glass of champagne; we ate some snacks. I ended up curled on the couch as we chatted, feeling both cozy and elegant at once. I wasn’t the last to leave at the end of the night, but I almost was. I thanked Wrendle sincerely for inviting me and he thanked me for coming.

I hung up the dress in my closet when I got home, washed my face. I had made no progress. I could have even missed something at the club.

Technically, I hadn’t known how lowkey the party would be when I was invited, and the last party I went to had been plenty fruitful, so it wasn’t a bad to move to attend, I rationalized. Regardless, I found it hard to care either way.

\--

When it came time, I went to the dinner with Rose at a nice restaurant and we had a grand time. He asked me about my brother, my friends. I told him a bit about Benzaiten, just the bare bones. We were twins, he was also a dancer (a much different sort, though), he was nicer than I was and had a brighter outlook on life. He looked intrigued by that, but didn’t pursue the obvious question. I told him about Rita, the same type of thing I told the group at Wrendle’s party. I mentioned Mick off-handedly. I didn’t bother bringing up Sasha, I hadn’t heard from her in at least a couple years and we were sort of on the outs. I really should hang out with Mick soon, though, I thought.

He kept the conversation focused more on me, skillfully. He occasionally mentioned an interest, stating that he liked drawing despite being terrible at it. I forewarned him I’d never agree to partner with him in Guess-the-Drawing anyway, and then had to backtrack to explain I’d played recently at the party I’d been invited to.

“Oh, so that’s where you were! Here was I thinking my understanding of your schedule was off,” he said. So, he knew my schedule. It was the same two-week rotation at this point, so it wouldn’t be _that_ hard to observe. If another person knew my schedule, I might see it as weird, but we were, well… dating.

“I hadn’t seen you, and I was bored,” I said with a shrug. “Besides, I’ve been making enough lately I figured one night wouldn’t hurt,” I said. I wondered if my lack of care about missing work would tip him off that I wasn’t who I made myself out to be, or if he would just think I was naïve and irresponsible.

He never asked me why I was a Vixen, despite being clearly different from the other people who worked at the Valley. I was glad he didn’t, but it didn’t stop me from trying to invent an answer, which was probably smart.

He kissed me, before we parted ways. I gave him the alternate comm number. We arranged a second date, a brunch on a day that I wasn’t working the night prior. I agreed.

Three nights before our planned second date, we saw each other at the club.

I was chatting with Wrendle near the bar when I noticed Rose on my other side. He didn’t say anything, my drink was almost finished which was generally a signal that I’d be free soon.

That would be fine, so I didn’t acknowledge him. Everything would have been normal, all good, had Wrendle not said,

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s your girlfriend, Dahl? You should bring her around sometime,” he was smiling, good-natured as always. I resisted the urge to look at Rose.

“Oh, uh, we broke up,” I said. The thought of breaking up with Rita made me sad for a split second, but that was stupid because we weren’t dating, and we were still best friends.

“Oh, geeze, I’m sorry to hear,” Wrendle said, patting me sympathetically on the shoulder.

“Yeah, we were on the outs for a while, though,” I said. He nodded.

“That’s a shame. Well, if you ever need an ear to listen,” Wrendle said. I smiled.

“Thanks,” I said, and meant it. I lifted my drink to finish it and he clapped me once more before saying.

“Okay, I’ll leave you be,” he said. I nodded.

Slowly, I shifted my body to the front, and then glanced at Rose.

“How much of that did you hear?” I asked him, voice quiet.

“Enough. You had a girlfriend, up until recently?” he asked. His tone wasn’t quite judgemental, mostly curious, but expectant of an answer. I grimaced. Dammit.

“I…” well, shit. I wasn’t sure if it would be better to lie even more or tell Rose I’d really just lied about having a girlfriend… One of those options would be easier on my psyche than the other, so I said, “no, actually.”

“Oh?” he perked his brow. He slid a drink my way and eyed me with genuine curiosity.

I frowned, then looked back up at him. “I… made that up, a while ago,” I said. “I don’t really know why. I was just looking for my comms and told Wrendle I had to get in touch with my girlfriend. It was just a meaningless fib, really,” I explained. I thought, for a second, “Do you ever do that, just… say shit you don’t mean, for no reason? At least, when it doesn’t matter, when it won’t hurt anyone?”

“I… understand the impulse entirely,” Rose said with a startling sincerity. I shouldn’t have been surprised, I supposed. He gave a little chuckle. “Perhaps more than most.”

I nodded. Then I went on, “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t do it excessively… It’s more tempting, though, being here,” I said. That was also, technically, true. I had to lie for my job, and sometimes I felt it necessary to misdirect even when it wasn’t specifically necessary to lie.

Rose nodded, “I can understand why a place like this would make you wish to reinvent yourself. I mean, it’s not as if you Vixens are going by their real names.” He pointed out.

“Exactly,” I said, looking away. I drank my whiskey. It was almost gone. “Playing the part is a big aspect of the job. And, well, there are also times when I’ve talked about having a partner just because patrons wanted to ask me out,” I added. It wasn’t something I thought about too much, it didn’t come up _too_ often, especially not compared to some of the other Vixens. That was besides the point, though.

“Ah, yes, of course,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve had marriage proposed to you many times.”

I laughed, “At least once. Not here, though,” I added. He perked a brow. “And that’s not even an innocent lie, that’s… a story for another time,” I told him. I wasn’t sure why I’d said it. I mean, it was the truth, but Rose didn’t need to know that.

“Interesting,” Rose said, regarding me with a look of intrigue. “You needn’t tell me anything you’re not ready to say,” he added. I smiled at him, then finished my drink and set down the glass. Rose glanced back at the booths, then at me. I perked a brow.

At that point, took me for a private dance, but I ended up settling onto his lap and kissing him before we got very far. He held me close and I curled up into him, my face tucked into his neck as I kissed him there. We sat, listening to the music blaring. He insisted on paying me, but I argued with him, saying,

“Don’t pay me for that,” I scoffed. 

“If you were a chef and I went to eat at your restaurant, I would still expect to pay,” he told me, amusement on his face. I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself.

“I’m not a chef, though. I didn’t dance for you at all, that’s not the same thing.”

“Well, I asked for a dance, and then didn’t let you dance. To return to my analogy, if I ordered food at your restaurant and didn’t eat it, I would still have to pay before I left. Besides, I could still have the meal for later, anyway,” he added, an afterthought.

I relented, and then slung my arms around him from behind as he paid. “Is this your way of saying you’d like to take me home and eat me?” I asked.

He laughed. “Well, I _hadn’t_ been trying to imply, but… now that you say that,” he turned around and I saw the hunger in his eyes. I lifted myself to him and we kissed, his hands on my waist, holding me firm.

I loved the way he held me.

I went home with him again, we fucked, and talked. Still no real intel, but lots of sweet nothings and even sweeter kisses.

And then, two nights before the next date, I was getting ready with Aria and some of the other Vixens in the dressing room, I was called out.

“By the way,” Aria started “are you seeing someone new?” she asked, glancing at the faint marks I was covering up with makeup at my station.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” I said. She just giggled at me.

“Fine then. Keep your secrets,” she put her hands up.

“Are you seeing Wren?” I asked. She shrugged.

“Not exactly. It’s complicated, with clients,” she said. She heaved a little sigh. One of the other Vixens eyed her, a bit of concern. I looked back at the mirror.

“Yeah,” I murmured. We went out on stage, one after another, and then walked the floor. Same old, same old. It was another boring night, like any job would be once you did it long enough, unless you had that sort of passion some people had.

\--

For my date with Rose, I picked out a nicer than usual t-shirt since he said the brunch place was “casual”. I debated with myself over a blazer, then gave up and called Rita for advice, despite knowing her sense of fashion was about as good as my own. She commented that I was “up awful early” and I threatened to hang up on her.

On her advice, I went with the blazer and slacks. I didn’t want to look out of place next to his perfectly tailored bullshit.

I met him there and he hugged me. I leaned my head on his shoulder for a moment before we both sat down.

“You look lovely, my darling,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks. You look pretty okay,” I told him with a scrunch of my nose. He looked breathtaking, really. 

He laughed and faked a wounded look. I bit back a smile. “You look like you were printed in a magazine, alright?” I said, and he grinned. “Seriously, how can someone look so good?” I shook my head.

Water was brought to us, and we opened our menus. He commented on what was available, what looked amazing, what looked just okay. I was half tempted to tell him to order for me because I was indecisive.

Our happy little bubble was burst before the waiter returned, though. At least, for me, it was, when I heard that voice,

“Whattaya know!? Fancy seeing you here!”

Standing at our table was none other than Mick Mercury. I wanted to strangle him.

“Hi, Mick,” I said, quickly.

“Hey Jay!” he said. I visibly winced. He didn’t notice. Fucking Mick Mercury.

“Hi Mick,” I repeated. “Hey, uh-can you leave? Like, right now?” I said. He tilted his head at me. “I’m on a _date_ Mick,” I said.

“Oh! Crap! I’m sorry, Jay,” he said. My mind was screaming at him to shut up.

“Yep, so unfortunate. For you. Leave, leave, now,” I said, leaning forward, ready to get up and manhandle him out of there if I had to. I didn’t catch Rose’s reaction to my behaviour.

“Okay, yeah, of course,” Mick said, because he was a nice guy. I flared my nostrils. If looks could kill. “I’ll get out of your hair! We need to grab a drink soon, though,” he said, “it was nice to meet you, whoever you are,” he said to Rose.

“It was a pleasure indeed,” Rose said. I looked at him for a second before putting my menu over my face and trying not to scream.

“Mick,” I said once more, harsh.

“See you later, Jay!” and he was finally walking away with a laugh. I still wanted to jump over the table and throttle him.

I pressed my lips together and didn’t pay much mind when Rose told the waiter we needed a few more minutes. My blood was boiling, and my face was hot. It wasn’t Mick’s fault. I was the one in public _dating_ a person of interest for an assignment Mick knew nothing about. I was the one who hadn’t told Rose my real name. It was myself I was angry with, not Mick. At least that wasn’t unusual.

“So, a.. friend?” Rose asked, voice soft.

“Yeah, Mick,” I said. “I think I mentioned him, before? Real old friend,” I took a deep breath. “One of my best, actually, aside from Rita. We’ve been friends since we were tiny. If it helps any, I talk to him like that all the time?” I said, realizing that my behaviour probably came across as heinous to any onlooker.

Rose laughed. “I can only imagine what it would be like to have someone you’d known that long. Who am I to comment on what a friendship like that should look like?” His smile was a touch sad.

I was lucky, after all, to have someone like Mick, who’d known me my life and stuck around during the highs and the deep, deep lows.

“Yeah,” I breathed out. “He’s a good guy, I swear, just- I,” I bit my lip. “It’s just, my… personal life, I dunno,” I looked down. I didn’t have a real excuse ready for why I didn’t want him to meet a friend of mine.

“You needn’t explain anything to me you don’t want to,” Rose reminded me, his hand on my wrist. I nodded.

We managed to order our food, and then chitchat a bit more. I could tell he was distracted, though. Or just rattled by my outburst.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked, eventually. He set his fork down on his plate.

“It’s nothing quite important, dear. But, if you want to know…” he tilted his head.

“I do,” I pressed. Maybe I’d get something to work with, finally.

“I’m just thinking,” he paused, pressing his lips together, frowning a bit. “Jay?” he asked, looking at me.

Right. I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “Uh. I mean. Well, you know Dahlia isn’t my real name. You mentioned that the other night at the club,” I winced. I guess it was weird, when I thought of it, for us to have been dating and fucking, and for me to never told him my real name.

“I’m well aware, darling. I wasn’t going to ask for your real name, not unless you offered it,” he said. I tilted my head slightly. “Rose isn’t my real name, either, you know,” he said. That made me raise my brows.

Huh. It hadn’t occurred to me that any of the patrons at the club wouldn’t be using their names. I reminded myself I was in bed with a criminal, though, and it made a bit more sense.

“Oh,” I said.

“I only mean to say, I can understand fully if you’d like to go by a name that isn’t your own. I’ll call you whatever you like. Jay, Dahlia, anything you want.” He said, voice assuring. I nodded.

“Um. Thanks,” I said. “Just so we’re clear, Jay isn’t my real name, either,” he perked a brow. “It’s the first letter of my name, actually. That’s just what Mick calls me,” I clarified. I wanted to tell him my name, mostly because I still selfishly wanted to hear it from his lips. I didn’t know if it was wise.

I thought about, though. He’d traded my secret for the information Rose wasn’t his real name. Maybe if I trusted him with this, he’d trust me with another secret in return.

“I see,” he said. “My point still stands.”

“It’s Juno,” I said, before I could stop myself. “Juno is my real name,” I told him, meeting his eyes. He smiled.

“And, would you like me to call you that?” he asked. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“Outside of the club,” I said, voice quiet. “I… would like that, yes,” I said. He held my hand over the table.

“Juno it is, then,” he said. I liked the sound of it. I felt like I was probably blushing.

I couldn’t help my smile.

“It’s a beautiful name,” he commented. “The Goddess of mothers, guardians, protectors,” he mused. I laughed, more harsh that I meant it to be.

“Yeah, I guess,” I rolled my eyes. He tilted his head. I kept talking, I don’t know why. “Yeah, I’ve read up on her. Juno was a real piece of work, had a mean streak a mile long, and a penchant for killing her kids. Not sure _that’_ s what Mom had in mind.” Maybe it was, though.

“Ah, and you’ve no mean streak at all,” he said with a tiny smirk. I stuck my tongue out at him.

“No worse than dear mom,” I said, tasting bitterness as I did. My mind warned me those were bad thoughts. “At least she didn’t kill her kids, not for lack of trying,” I muttered. He raised a brow at me. I shook my head. “Rose, hm? That’s for... love, passion. If I remember correctly, also associated with the Goddess of beauty.”

“Yes,” Rose said, with a smile. “I take my name as a creed to live by. Control your name… and you control yourself,” he finished.

“A pretty thought,” I said slowly. “I don’t know that it’s that simple. At least not for the rest of us,” I said, looking at him. He breathed in through his nose. “I won’t push you, but… will I get your real name, too?”

“I-” he started, then sighed. “I would like to give it to you, my darling Juno. I’m not sure I’m quite ready, yet,” he said, sounding sad. I nodded. Dammit.

“I won’t push,” I repeated. Then I smirked. “Look at us, Rose. We’ll fuck before the first date, but names are so intimate, we won’t share them until at least the second.” We laughed together, and finally got back to eating.

Our meal was even nicer after that, I felt lighter. My name in his voice was running through my mind like a rabbit on stash. I wanted to hear it again, and again.

It turned out, I would. We parted ways for a few hours, but he found me at work. I danced for him, and he called me Dahlia. I almost told him not to, but that would directly contradict what I’d told him on the date. So, I waited. He took me to his home, and then whispered my name like a prayer on my skin.

“Juno,” he whispered again, as we lay there, panting. In a post-sex haze. I shifted over to him, placing my head was on his chest. He ran his fingers through my hair.

“Yeah?” I said, looking up at him. I gave a lazy smile.

“My name is Peter,” he said. My eyes widened. I swear, my heart stopped when he said it.

“Peter,” I repeated. Juno and Peter. I liked the sound of that. I smiled at him, then kissed him eagerly.

I had thought we were about to go to sleep, but his confession spurred another round of divine lovemaking between us. It gave me a chance to test out screaming his name as he murmured mine.

After that, though, I took a quick trip to the bathroom, and then I fell asleep with his arm around my middle.

\--

Things lulled along, and I continued to make little progress on my assignment.

I was having a great deal of fun, though, spending time with Rose, no, _Peter_. We hung out at his apartment, and went out to nice places. Never the same spot twice. When I wasn’t talking to Rita, or at the club, I was with him, talking, kissing, laughing. Like a true budding relationship.

Somewhere in there, finally got drinks with Mick, where he also drilled me with questions about said new relationship. He talked about how happy I seemed, how he hadn’t seen me so smitten since Diamond. It was nauseating.

Most nights, though, I spent with Peter. We went back to his place, and did our usual thing. It mainly consisted of having sex and chatting idly. Peter liked to wax poetic about things he’d read, or seen. He was much better at explaining the things he read than Rita was at explaining movies she’d watched. Both were fun to listen to, at the end of the day.

I wondered whether Rita would like Peter. I couldn’t see her disliking him, but I found it hard to believe anyone could dislike him.

At some point, I told Peter about the book I’d read at Ben’s recommendation, because it was the only thing I’d read in months, other than the occasional news article. I made a joke about how I was lucky he didn’t care I was uncultured.

He said, “Rome wasn’t built in a day. We are all, always growing. Don’t think you can’t change, develop new interests, morph into someone new. There’s a world of possibility out there, Juno.”

I’d responded with, “I guess. I’ve hardly been outside of Hyperion City, though.”

He told me places he’d like to take me, and I asked him about them. Peter didn’t sound full of shit, not like Mick was with his stories. It was unclear, though, which places he’d visited and which places he’d only read about and wanted to visit.

A few days later, I had to give another update at the precinct. Rita and I poured over my notes and agreed that the fact I was _sleeping_ with a person-of-interest that I _knew_ to be involved in criminal activity would be left out. Rita’s mouth ran a mile a minute, but I knew she was good when it counted.

I got another “Good job, keep it up” from Captain Khan with the details I provided. He was glad to hear I was close to “Rose” now. I told him I was fairly certain something would give, sometime, hopefully soon. Nobody seemed too concerned one way or the other, but said that once I had something solid we’d hatch an actual plan and involve more people.

A plan, I thought to myself. This whole time, I wanted a plan. I still didn’t have one.

So, I went about my days, and kept getting closer to Peter.

He was getting closer to me, too, though. I wasn’t usually all that forthcoming about myself or my feelings, but he was easy to talk to.

Still, I knew that I had to push him for more information sooner or later. It only made sense, if we were dating, that I wanted to know more about him.

“So,” I said one day. “What were your parents like?” I asked him. He took a pause and I tilted my head.

“I didn’t get to know my parents,” Peter said. I frowned.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. He just shook his head and smiled sadly. I was familiar with that expression, by now. I had gathered, over time, that he lived a fairly lonely life. He didn’t seem to have many other friends, real connections. The thought only made me feel guilty so I pushed it away as much as I could.

“What about you? You mentioned your mother was… mean,” he said carefully.

I shouldn’t have let him turn it back around onto me, dammit. Still. I nodded. “She was,” I said plainly. “She and I… didn’t get along very well,” I said.

“Your father?” he asked.

“Never had one,” I answered truthfully. I looked at him, and wondered if he was thinking of my off-hand comment about how my mother may or may not have tried to kill her children.

“Ah,” he said. “So, it’s just yourself, your mean mother, and your twin?”

“A happy little family,” I said, smiling cruelly. “But, uh,” I said, “she’s not with us, any more.”

“Oh,” Peter said. He looked at me, expectant, but not outright asking for the story.

I gave it anyway. I’m not sure why. “Yeah. She, uh, she killed herself,” I said, eyes darting from his eyes to the floor. “After she… tried to kill me,” I said.

“That is… quite the event, Juno,” Peter said. I glanced up at him and he looked at least a bit shocked. I gave a quiet nervous laugh. “It sounds like a very difficult ordeal to go through,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “She didn’t end up hurting me, though, just Ben,” I said, realizing my hands were shaking just talking about it. I hadn’t talked much about it to anyone other than a grief counsellor that I was directed to by the HCPD after the ordeal. The one I had stopped seeing far too soon.

Peter stayed quiet, and I looked at my hands.

“We were fighting. That wasn’t unusual. I didn’t know the… state… she was in,” I explained. “She aimed a gun at me and I practically dared her to shoot it. Then she did, but Ben pushed me out of the way. When she realized what she’d done, she.. turned it on herself,” I said, slowly. He rubbed my shoulder. “I was looking after Ben, he’d been hit in the arm. When I saw her moving, I tried to go towards her, but I was too far away,” I said. Then, I lifted my eyes to Peter’s. I felt scared, vulnerable. I buried my face in his chest and he held me, like he always did.

“I’m so sorry, Juno,” he whispered. I just nodded and sniffled a bit, but, for once, I wasn’t crying.

“It’s okay,” I muttered, even though it wasn’t.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Peter murmured. I shook my head.

“I don’t know what else to do with it, so,” I said. He nodded, looking like he understood.

“I did have a father-figure, once,” he said quietly, after a few moments. I looked up at him with an open and earnest expression. “It means a lot, that you told me what you did. I.. do not wish to share the details of my relationship with that man, not yet. Suffice to say, it did not end well. He is also... no longer with us,” he explained.

I nodded my head and pressed my lips to his cheek. “I’m sorry, too, Peter,” I told him. He gave me that sad, sad smile.

“Thank you, Juno,” he said to me. We settled in and moved on to lighter topics. I was glad. I wasn’t sure I could handle trying to tease more important information out of Peter that night.


	8. Chapter 8

Two nights after what was almost definitely an ill-advised decision to tell Peter about my mother, I had a night off that I wasn’t planning on spending with him, for once.

I had almost forgotten; Rita had purchased us tickets for a live show. We were going to see some theatre troupe, all the way from Earth, doing one of their musicals. She was over the moon with excitement.

We got ready together at my place. I dressed up in clothing similar to what I wore the second date I had with Peter: a blazer, slacks, and a nice dark purple t-shirt to match Rita’s skirt. Rita did my hair, pulling it into an elegant bun at the back of my head and letting a few strands frame my face. I wore only a tiny bit of makeup.

Rita was wearing a nice blouse and purple skirt that, together, accentuated her curves. She wore her hair in braids and put on makeup in bright colours that somehow still worked with her overall outfit.

We took off to the theatre, waited in a couple lines, and then got our seats. Rita talked to me the entire time, right up until the show started, and then she went silent.

I always wondered why Rita liked live theatre and public movies, because they were some of the only form of media that didn’t allow her to talk during them, and it seemed important for her to be able to talk during things. Still, she insisted on going.

During the intermission, I remembered why she was okay with going to the theatre.

“Mistah Steel, did you _see_ that set piece? The way it moved? Oh my God, that Earth Cow was so funny that they had, oh my God,” she said, then she gasped. “And the _dress-_ and that’s not even to mention the acting, I loooovved that first girl.”

We walked out to get drinks, and I didn’t say one word during the intermission as she recounted everything she did and did not like about the first act. Then, we sat back down, and she fell silent instantly once we got the warning to do so.

As soon as the clapping stopped, Rita was back to talking again. We went out into the lobby of the theatre and sat at one of the tables there. We were far from the only people milling about.

I let her talk for at least ten minutes, only interjecting minor comments, agreements, little questions here and there. Then, I said,

“Rita, one minute. I’m gonna go get us drinks, okay?”

“Well, fine, but I’m coming with you,” she said and we both stood. “Because what if I forget? I have so much to say, boss,” she went on. I just shook my head at her.

“Okay, Rita, whatever you want,” I told her. She just kept talking.

I ordered a drink for me and water for her at the bar, and we shuffled to the side to wait for them to be prepared. We each took our cups, and then started back towards the table.

“So what did you think of the part where the witch died? Because _I_ thought it was super cool, and not really that sad since she was pretty mean and all. It was more entertaining than anything,” Rita went on, I just nodded with her. She took a moment to drink some of her water.

“I think it looked pretty cool,” I told her simply. She smiled over her cup.

Before she could start speaking, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Hello there, Juno,” I heard. I turned around, and saw none other than Peter standing there.

“Oh,” I said, startled. He was looking incredibly nice, his eyes lined in a crisp cat eye and his lips a deep purple-red. “Hi,” I said. I looked between him and Rita.

“Who’s this?” Rita said, cocking her head to the side.

“This is Rose, Rita,” I said, my eyes boring into hers for a split second. Then I looked at Peter, and gestured towards Rita, “And this is Rita. My best friend,” I said. I put my free hand on her back.

“Oh! Oh my God,” she said. “Hi! I’ve heard _so much_ about you. Mistah- er, Juno, talks about you all the time.” Rita’s eyes darted from mine back to Peter. We then looked at each other for a moment or two and I begged her to reel in the “Mistah Steel” and “boss” nicknames. I think she got it.

“Oh, does he now?” Peter asked us, and Rita gave a laugh. I could tell it was a bit nervous. “Only good things, I hope. As well, I did not mean to interrupt the two of you, I simply wanted to say hello. I apologize if I’m intruding,” he said.

“Not at all!” Rita said. “That is, you aren’t intruding. Mmn- _Juno_ does say good things about you, though! Promise,” Rita said. I just shook my head.

“That’s good to hear. He has only good things to say about you, too, y’know,” Peter’s eyes glinted and I saw Rita grin.

“Really!? Awh,” she slapped me on the arm, and I winced. “He’s a big ol’ sap when I’m not within earshot, huh?”

“Can it, Rita,” I fixed her with a glare. “The things I say about you when you aren’t around are none of your concern,” I said. She laughed.

“Sure, sure, boss,” she said. I pressed my lips together. I glanced at Peter and he raised a brow.

“All of my friends have dumb nicknames for me,” I explained to Peter. Rita scoffed.

“It ain’t dumb, it’s quirky and endearing,” she insisted. I rolled my eyes.

“Anyway,” I said, lifting my drink and taking a sip.

“So,” Rita said, “are we just gonna stand around? Let’s go find another table! Mistah Rose,” she fixed her eyes on him, “what did you think of the climatic scene where the witch dies in a dramatic puff of smoke?” she asked, and that was that.

“If you would like, you may call me Peter,” he told her. I blinked at him, but he was turning to walk with her. It took me months to get his name, and Rita got it in less than ten minutes. I didn’t question it, though. I didn’t want to know the reason he gave my best friend his real first name, if there was one at all.

“Oh, okay, well- whatever you want, Peter, Mr. Rose, don’t matter to me,” she said. “Are you avoiding the question?”

“Oh, no, I quite liked that scene. It was very powerful, a tad emotional, but largely just entertaining,” he said. “You may call me either, though I am more used to Rose.”

“Okay Mistah Rose,” she said. “And I totally agree, very powerful scene, though, the part where the man is trying to calm his infant son is _way_ more emotional. The witch’s scene was spectacular, but it’s not like I feel bad for her or nothin’,” Rita said.

We sat down and I drank my alcoholic beverage and Rita drank her water in sips between explanation of her impression of the musical. Peter listened attentively and gave his perspective, contributing more than I would. Rita didn’t seem to mind, it only spurred her on further.

Eventually, though, Rita’s line of questioning shifted dramatically.

“So! You’ve entered a relationship with my Juno here,” Rita said. I noticed the tiny scrunch of her nose when she referred to me by first name. She always said it felt weird to call me anything but Mistah Steel, but Peter didn’t know my last name. If he did, he could look me up, which would be bad given the circumstances.

“I have,” Peter said. I gave Rita a look of dread.

“Rita. Don’t… do that thing,” I told her.

“What thing? I’m not doing a thing,” Rita said. We stared at each other for a minute until I tore my gaze away and looked at Peter. “Anyway,” Rita said. “I’ve heard a lot about you, but that don’t mean I don’t wanna know more! Tell me about yourself, Mistah Rose,” she said, a smile playing up on her lips. I’d already told her that Peter was even less forthcoming about himself than I was. If anyone could crack someone, though, it’d be Rita.

“Well, okay. What is it you’d like to know?” Peter asked her. I watched him carefully.

“Okay, let’s start with this! What’s your favourite colour?” I snorted. Oh Rita.

“Up until a month ago, it was the colour of fresh lavender,” Peter said, in that way of his. “Now, it’s the colour of Juno’s eyes,” he said, glancing at me before looking back at Rita. I blushed.

“Awwh,” Rita said, “That is _so sweet!_ ” she nudged my arm forcefully.

“Peter,” I mumbled, glancing away.

“It’s just the truth, darling,” he said. I rolled my eyes.

“Hm. Okay,” she said. “What’s your favourite movie based on a natural disaster that occurred on Earth in the 21st century? And don’t say you’ve never watched one! You’ve had to have seen at least one, there are over 400 movies that fit that definition currently,” she said, sticking her finger out.

So, Rita spent a few minutes quizzing Peter on his obscure movie knowledge. He knew a bit more than I expected, but she caught him up a few times

“It’s funny, Juno,” he said, at some point. “You told me just the other day you didn’t think you were ‘cultured’ but live theatre has long since been associated with a taste for the fine arts,” he said.

“Psh, I’m only here because of Rita,” I told him. She grinned at me.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Juno! I know you know the songs by heart-”

“I _do not_.”

“You were humming along that time in the car-“

“Lies,” I said, slapping my hand on the table. She just cackled. I shook my head.

We talked until we had to leave because they were closing the lobby. I offered to walk Peter home, knowing it wasn’t too far. Rita gave both of us hugs. It was nice, seeing Peter and Rita comfortable enough for that already.

It was a fun night. It turned out I was glad to have Peter crash my hangout with Rita. I told him as much.

“This was nice,” I said, “the show was pretty good, after all. And… it was cool that you and Rita got to meet.”

He slipped his hand in mine as we walked. “She’s quite something,” he said. I looked up at him.

“You do actually like her, right?” I asked, a bit sudden.

“I do,” Peter confirmed. “She’s your best friend, of course I like her. You were right in calling her a force of nature, but, she’s a very genuine person. I appreciate that quality,” he said. I had half a mind for that comment to sting, but instead I focused on what it meant that he liked Rita.

“That’s good,” I said. “She definitely likes you, too. And, I’m really glad you like one another,” I told him.

“Oh?” he perked a brow at me.

“Yeah,” I said. “Disliking Rita would be a dealbreaker for me,” I said. We laughed, but I think we both knew I meant it. 

“That’s fair,” Peter said, smiling. We were at his door, he opened it and waved me through. It occurred to me I didn’t have to worry if I stayed over because I already had clothes there.

“I knew you two would get along, though,” I said as I took off my boots. “I wasn’t _that_ worried.”

“I’m glad to hear of your faith in me,” Peter laughed, and I laughed too. Then, he kissed me, and we went to the bedroom.

In the end, I stayed the night at Peter’s. Then, left for a few hours, and saw him again at the Valley.

We flirted near the bar for a bit before I walked the floor. I got a couple requests for dances, and then I ran into Aria, who was giggling.

“Dahl,” she said, smiling, but her eyes looked a bit pained.

“Hey, Ari. You okay?” I asked. She bit her lip. “Wanna come to the dressing room for a minute?” I asked. She nodded, and I took her hand.

Once there, Aria took a deep breath. I got her some water. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. I looked at her. Her eyes were a bit red.

“Aria,” I said.

“I might have taken more stash than I should have,” she said, sighing loudly. “Everything is swimming, out there. I know my limit, I know I do. Maybe it was an off batch,” she said, and pressed her nails into her palms. Then she drank some more water. “I need to get back to work, though, Dahl,” she said. I frowned tightly.

Stash and star candy were similar, but not the same. The highs of stash were higher, but so were the lows. I couldn’t blame her for chasing the highs, I’d be a hypocrite if I did.

“Just stay for another five minutes, okay? Get some more water, let yourself rest,” I said.

“You should go back out, too,” Aria said, but she made no move to get up. “We can’t be losing money.”

Another Vixen entered, but I didn’t pay too much mind. They went to check their reflection in the mirror.

“I’m not leaving you back here alone,” I said, final. Aria nodded, and drank her water. She held her stomach for a moment and pulled a sick face. “Do you feel like you’re gonna throw up?” Honestly, it might be in her best interest if she did.

She shook her head no. “I just want to sit,” She said quietly. So we did. After a minute, Aria smiled at me. “So… you and Rose?” she asked me, taking more sips of water, never too much at one.

“What did I say about kissing and telling?” I replied. That was confirmation enough. We both chuckled.

“Still, though. You seem happier,” Aria said, her eyes warm. I pressed my lips together. I’d heard that from Mick, and Ben, even Rita in her own way. It hurt to hear it.

“He’s a good guy,” I said, Aria nodded.

“I’m glad. He seems really nice,” Aria said. I noticed the other Vixen, I think their name was Mona, look over at us. Aria sipped her water.

“He is,” I murmured again.

“Mind if I ask who?” the Vixen asked. Then, they added, “You good, Aria?”

Aria looked at me, then at the other Vixen. “I’m okay, Moira.” Moira, not Mona. I was close

They both looked at me. I was like. “Oh, we’re just talking about someone I’m seeing.”

“That man near the bar you’re with all the time?” Moira asked. I frowned.

“Uh, yeah, probably,” I said. Moira fixed me with a concerned look. I resented it.

“Mhmm. You should be careful,” they said. I huffed quietly.

“I am careful. He’s a good man.”

“I’m not saying he’s not. I just mean, even the ones that seem nice might not end up being so nice after everything is said and done. I’ve been here a long time and I’ve seen a lot of shit,” they explained, tone soft and strong at the same time. “I’ve seen other Vixens get hurt, and I just think it’s important to have each other’s back.”

I nodded, unable to explain to them that if anyone was gonna get hurt at this point, it would be him. I hadn’t let myself think of that part too much. I didn’t want to hurt Peter. Sure, he was a criminal, and maybe I would feel differently if I had confirmation what he actually _did_ as a criminal. I knew he stole things, but, aside from my affection, I didn’t know what. I didn’t know if stealing was all he did, or if he was involved in other unsavory things.

Maybe I was breaking my heart over someone who wasn’t worth the pain. I had no way to know.

“I’ll be careful,” was all I said, and Aria smiled at me.

“I’m feeling a bit better,” Aria said. “For now,” she added.

“If you need anything, just find me, okay?” I said, and she nodded.

“Or me, hon,” Moira said. I smiled at both of them.

I was the one who was feeling sick at that point. I left the dressing room, anyway, and hoped that I wouldn’t run into Peter again. When I saw him, I pretended not to and walked the other direction, eventually found another person to dance for.

When it came down to it, I was getting tired of this. At least, tired of the lies. I wondered if Aria would be hurt, if she knew I wasn’t just a lady who worked here, but a cop and a liar too. What about Wrendle? Buddy, even.

It was supposed to be for the greater good. Why did it feel so terrible, then?

Maybe it was just me, though. I was always miserable anyway. It wasn’t like I had been feeling great about my job or my life before I started this assignment. I had always been miserable, and I always would be at this rate.

It was just the same shit, different pile. Diamond, Peter, it was all going to end up the same. One of us hurt, the other broken, each of us left to pick up the pieces. Alone.

I knew Peter and Diamond were incredibly different people, but I wasn’t sure that mattered. I had trusted Diamond, and it turned out I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know how much I could trust Peter. Obviously, he’d made a mistake by trusting me.

And when it came to him, I could have just… asked. I knew what he was up to. It wasn’t that hard to read between the lines.

The truth was, I wanted to know, and I didn’t want to know, in equal measure. The two desires pulled my mind and my heart taught, liable to rip it in two. To know, or not to know.

In the end, I wasn’t going to have a choice in the matter.

\--

Two days after the night I talked to Moira and Aria in the dressing room, I was walking the floor in a bit of a daze. I’d grabbed a star candy from Wrendle, because I was never good at healthy decisions. I told myself it would be the last time, for a while. Next time I felt this badly I wasn’t allowed to touch it, but this time it was okay, because I’d okay’d it with myself beforehand. Made sense, right?

I was still mad at myself. Thankfully, I hadn’t seen Peter since that night. I enjoyed his company a lot, but I knew it would be hard to face him with the sheer level of guilt I was experiencing over my… predicament.

Peter was a criminal. I was a cop. Peter was sweet, and kind, and made me feel things. He thought I was somebody I wasn’t.

It wasn’t like he had been particularly forthcoming about who _he_ was, either, I rationalized to myself. He had never admitted to the aforementioned criminal activity, never elaborated when it came to what he did for a living. He was lying, too, I told myself. Maybe not as deeply as I was, but still.

I was already in a terrible mood before I saw Maximillian watching me from the bar. I glanced at him, and then away again. I tilted my head and looked back, and he beckoned me over with a finger. I was intrigued.

“Hello,” I said slowly, trying for a sultry voice to cover my confusion. He smiled at me pleasantly.

“Hey little lady. Care to dance for me?” he asked. No beating around the bush, it seemed. I shrugged nonchalantly. At least it was in-character with my aloof persona.

“Sure thing,” I drawled. I gave a little laugh.

He pressed his hand to the small of my back. It felt nothing like Peter's. We entered a booth, and he selected the music.

He sat down and leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee. I wasn’t really sure how I was meant to dance on him like that.

“Um,” I said, moving my hands to my hip.

“Don’t bother with your song and dance. I'd actually rather talk to you,” he said. I dropped my hands.

“O..kay,” I said. He flashed me a smile, then let his face be neutral.

“I just want a little chat,” he said, “I’d like to discuss something with you, about your boyfriend.”

A chill went up my spine. My tongue felt dry in my mouth. I laughed a little, humorless. “Okay, what about him?” I didn’t want to play games, but I wasn’t sure if he’d be direct.

“Do you know how he makes the creds he spends on you here, taking you out on the town, so on?”

I stared at him. I pressed my nails into my palms. “Some sort of… business,” I said, pursing my lips. “Why?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

“Business. I guess you could call it that,” he chuckled and smirked. “You could call most things some type of business, though,” he pointed out. I knew that.

“So?” I asked, more forceful. He was starting to piss me off.

“Your beau is more than an average businessman, lady. Do you have any idea what he gets up to?” he was shaking his head at me, looking at me with disdain and, perhaps, pity. It was infuriating.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. What’s it to you?” I spat. I crossed my arms over my chest, tapped a foot.

“Oh, it means quite a lot to me, actually,” he said. “You could say Duke and I are in business together, at the moment. That makes his business my business too.”

“Duke?” I asked, without thinking. I raised a brow.

Maximillian scoffed at me, which only angered me further. “Duke, Duke Rose? You know, the man you’re seeing, your beau?” he laughed again. “He didn’t even tell you his first name, huh?”

Oh. I blinked, then fixed him with sneer. “Whatever. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, I suppose. I just wanted to give you a little warning, so to speak,” he spoke slowly. I wanted to punch him. “I’ll say it plainly,”

“Please do,” I snapped. He stared me down.

“Your little lovestruck fool is a criminal, sweetheart.” I took a deep breath and wondered if I should feign ignorance.

“Um.” I said. My eyes darted to the curtain. “Okay, says you,” I said. “Why tell me, then?”

“Well, its pretty simple, actually,” he started. I scowled. “You’re a risk. I don’t know you, I don’t trust you. Duke insists on keeping you out of it, away from it all,” he put on a whimsical voice, as if mocking the way Peter spoke. That made my blood boil. Maximillian went on, “he thinks he's protecting you. I just want to protect _him_ , really. And the rest of us,” he explained.

I took in a deep breath, becoming aware of my heart racing. “Is he in danger, then?” I still wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

“Well, sweetheart, there’s an inherent risk to stealing things,” Maximillian rolled his eyes. “He’s quite good at it, your beau, so I wouldn’t worry about that part. I’m more worried about the danger _you_ pose, little lady.” He leaned forward, now, both feet on the ground.

“The danger _I_ pose?” I asked, incredulous. I told myself he didn’t know I was a cop. If he did, this conversation would be a lot different. I held my tongue, and waited.

“Precisely. Until you walked in here with me, you didn’t know you were in bed with a thief. Now you know. Tell me, does that scare you?” he looked at me. “You’re looking a little frightened, sweetheart.”

I bit my lip. “Wh-why would that scare me?” I laughed, nervous. “it’s not like that makes him more likely to hit me, or some shit. I guess,” I shrugged, and looked away. I think I was starting to get what he was trying to say, though.

“No, not that,” he said. “I just don’t want you getting in over your head, is all.” His voice sounded like it was trying to be soothing, but there was something else to it. “He wants to keep you in the dark. How are you supposed to decide, for yourself, if you don’t know what you’re making a decision about?” He said. I gave a jerky nod, agreeing with the sentiment. “So I thought, I should tell you. That way, you don’t get a shock later on, hm? The last thing we would want is you, oh, I don’t know… Getting scared, and running to the HCPD, now,” he was speaking slowly, sounding like he was just concerned for me. It was clearly a threat.

I nodded again, my lips firmly pressed together. “Yeah,” I choked out. 

“It would be a shame, anyway, if he were to get in trouble just because you got a little scared, right?” Maximillian smiled. “Your beau isn’t a _bad_ guy, anyway.”

I tilted my head at him. “O-of course not.” I said. Then I looked up at him, frowning, sad. “He’s… he’s not involved in…? well,” I pressed my lips together, trailing off. I wondered if he would take the bait. 

He did. Maximillian waved his hand, “He’s just a thief. A good one. I’m sure he’ll steal you some awfully pretty jewels, if you’re around long enough. With him, I mean,” he said. I nodded.

“Good,” I murmured. I was genuinely relieved.

“Still, he works with me, and with some other pretty important people around here. He might keep his hands cleaner than some of the others, but if he goes down, it’s a risk to all of us,” he said. I nodded. I could read between the lines, plain as day. It was great, for the assignment, anyway.

“Right,” I nodded.

“We have ways of keeping our own safe,” he said. “I hope I’ve been clear tonight, little lady,” he said. I kept nodding.

“Yes, sir,” I said. He grinned.

“Good, good,” he said. Then, he got up and left. Without paying me anything.

I was pissed about that, but the excitement from the progress in my assignment won out quickly.

He had all but handed me his confession on a silver platter. It wouldn’t be enough to get him, but it would be enough to take back to the HCPD.

And Peter… was just a thief. Sure, that was still a crime. Robbery could be armed, it had the potential to be deadly, but it didn’t have to be. Not when it went right. As a copy, I probably shouldn’t be feeling so relieved my ‘boyfriend’ was _only_ a thief, but it still felt like a win.

By the time I met up with Peter near the end of the night, though, my outlook had changed.

I had been bopping along the night, happy and high on star candy, excited about the case, until I realized that now there was an expiry date on my time with Peter.

Even more, I would be taking his heart in my hand and crushing it myself, when that day came.

I was unusually quiet when he put his arm around me and walked me to a cab. The high from the star candy had faded significantly but the real haze hadn’t set in. I was just… sad.

Peter noticed something was off in the car ride, but didn’t press when I told him I was just tired.

When he shut the door behind us, I hung up my stuff in his closet and then kissed him, hard, like his lips could make my rotten feelings go away.

He took me to the bedroom and we laid down. We kissed for a bit until I excused myself to take off the makeup.

I looked at the extra toothbrush in his bathroom with a deep melancholy, then took it and brushed my teeth. I piled my hair into a bun on my head, and then left the bathroom, trailed back down the hall. I crawled into bed with him.

“Juno, love,” he said. I would never tire of hearing him say my name. Too bad I was running out of time to hear him say it.

“Hm?” I looked at him. 

“Are you perhaps ready to consider telling me what is wrong, my darling?” he brushed his hand along my shoulder.

I frowned. Small. Sad. “I dunno,” I said, and then I snuggled into his arms. He hugged me tightly to his chest.

He was comforting me because _I_ was upset over the fact that I was going to break _his_ heart. If he knew, he would probably hate me. I wouldn’t blame him.

Eventually, I pulled back.

“Darling, what has you so upset? It hurts me to see you so out of sorts,” he coo’d. I took a shaky breath.

It wasn’t fair, what I was doing. None of it was fair. Life wasn’t fair. I steadied myself, and spoke anyway,

“Maximillian asked me for a dance tonight,” I said. Peter tilted his head at me. His face darkened.

“Did he hurt you?” he whispered. His voice was low, dangerous.

“No, nothing like that,” I shook my head. “He wanted to talk… about you,” I said. This time, the colour ran from his face, like it did when he thought he crossed a boundary. I pressed my lips together.

“What about me, Juno?” he asked, breathing in slowly.

I sat up, my back against the headboard. I pulled my knees into my chest and crossed my armed over them. Finally, I said, “About… about what you do,” I said. At least this part was all true.

“Ah. I see,” he said. “So he told you I’m a…” he went silent. I looked at him.

“Do you want me to say it?” I asked, voice quiet and tired.

“A thief,” he finished. “I… I’m sorry, Juno. I should have said something sooner,” he said.

I just shook my head. It was hard to cast a stone from where I was sitting. “I… I’m not stupid, or naïve. Maximillian seems to think I am. I’m not stupid,” I almost spat. “I could tell you were up to… something, it’s not like this is a shock,” I said. He nodded.

“Its okay, if you’re cross with me. I’d understand it.” I shook my head no.

“I’m not,” I told him. I don’t think I had it in me to be mad at him. “I wish I had heard it from you, Peter, but I’m not upset with you.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

I took in another shaky breath. I had to know, so I asked. “He said.. you stole things, but you weren’t involved in.. anything more serious. No, y’know, supplying people with weapons, or anything like that. Is that true?” I squeezed my eyes shut, and then looked at him.

“Yes,” he said. “I mainly steal art, artifacts. Jewels. I’m quite the pickpocket, actually,” he said. “I won’t claim to be a saint. My crimes, like all crimes, aren’t victimless. I’m sure I’ve hurt people,” he confessed. I remained tight lipped. “I… have killed, before, but only to save another. I do have standards, Juno, lines I try not to cross, and lines that I refuse to cross. I can only hope this doesn’t change what’s between us,” he said. My eyes watered.

“I should have known you were a thief,” my breath caught, “you stole my heart almost instantly,” I said, then laughed at the same time as gasping. He laughed along. I sniffed, and felt his hand gently on my shoulder.

He didn’t say anything. I took a breath, then went on,

“What about Max, though? The other people you work with. I trust you, Peter, I swear I do. If you say you’re not involved in worse things, I believe you. But… people like Max?”

I looked and he was biting his lip. It wasn’t something I saw him do often. I wiped at my eyes. He took a deep breath. “Darling, part of the reason I never told you is to keep you safe. I think the less you know, the better.”

I glared at him. It seemed Max hadn’t lied about anything, interestingly enough. “I’m not a child, Peter. I can make these decisions for myself, if you give me the chance.” I looked away, then swore at myself in my mind. It was a bit harsh.

“Of course,” he said. “They aren’t exactly my secrets to tell. But, I’ll tell you what I know, if you’re sure you want me to.”

I nodded my head. “I’m sure,” I said. “I’m not young, or dumb. I know the types of people to be found in my place of work. Usually I don’t mind staying in the dark, at least until I have a reason to suspect,” I explained, not that I really had to. Still, I went on. “I can do my job just fine, as long as I don’t think about it too hard. But,” I paused for effect, “now that he’s given me reason to think about it, and I wont be able to _stop_ thinking about it. I know it might seem weird, a stripper with such strong moral conviction,” I rolled my eyes. “still,” I muttered, “it’s just what I’m like.”

“Your profession doesn’t dictate whether you can tell right from wrong, Juno,” he said. “Besides, in my experiences, many dancers have a great capacity for care and compassion, which goes well with moral convictions,” he laughed. I smiled, too.

“We are basically just sexy therapists,” I said, and we both laughed. Then, he sighed.

“Okay, one last chance to turn back. You’re sure you can’t stand living without knowing the crimes of Maximillian Jowns?”

A last name, interesting. I just took a deep breath and pressed on, “Peter. Tell me.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “I don’t talk much about business that doesn’t concern me. He seems to think himself a jack of all trades, though, and he currently has a monopoly on information as it comes in and out of Vixen Valley. I have to assume it’s mostly because Valles Vicky is on her maternity leave, she would normally be there herself. He tries to make sure anyone wanting to make deals, sell things, find buyers, anything of the sort, goes through him first. I don’t know with 100% certainty, but I believe he's involved in most things you could think of, from buying and selling stolen goods to moving things like weapons... and people,” he concluded.

Weapons, and people. It was exactly what I was looking for, this whole time. I’d spent months waiting for this.

I felt hollow inside.

“Juno, my love,” Peter said. I looked at him, blankly staring. “Do you feel any better, now that you know?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “A tiny bit. It would have driven me crazy, otherwise. I’m glad you told me,” I said softly. He nodded his head. We were quiet for a few minutes. I kissed him.

When we parted, he looked between us, and then back up at him.

“Juno,” he started. I heard something special in his voice. I looked at him and tilted my head.

“Yeah, Peter?” I asked him. I gave him a little smile, trying to be encouraging, despite everything.

“My name,” he started slowly, “it's Nureyev. Peter Nureyev,” he said. My heart was in my throat.

His confession weighed on me like a ton of bricks. It was the softest, deepest declaration of love I had ever experienced. I smiled, my eyes watering.

He could have been proposing marriage to me then and there and it would be less meaningful, less significant, less intimate than what he just said.

“I love you, Peter Nureyev,” I whisperer back. Would it have hurt him less, in the end, if I hadn’t said that? Still, he smiled and cupped my cheek, wiping a tear with his thumb.

“I love you, too, Juno.” I leaned forward and kissed him.

“I… I hope you’ll forgive me,” I paused, swallowing, “if I don’t tell you my last name, yet. I want to, just- Soon, I promise. Not yet, but soon,” I said. 

“Whenever you’re ready, my love,” Peter said. “You needn’t rush.”

I nodded my head, then shuffled into bed properly. I cuddled with Peter until he fell asleep, then I just laid on my back and stared at the ceiling until my mind allowed me to join him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:D


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, I left Peter's place earlier than usual, citing a hangout scheduled with Rita. I actually had a team meeting at the precinct. It was all coming together perfectly, really. The timing couldn’t be better for me to have a breakthrough.

Right before the meeting, I had another stroke of luck- if you could call it that. Wrendle had messaged me, saying Max and some other friends had asked me to a party in two weeks, as guests (rather than entertainment). It wasn’t Wrendle's party, for once. It was being hosted by someone named Pav. He said Rose and I were invited.

So, I went into the meeting, and I told the team everything that I’d learned from my discussions with Maximillian Jowns and ‘Rose’, leaving out the part where Peter was my boyfriend. I told them about the party, and everyone agreed that it might be a good time to strike and take down a few people, depending on the intel we could gather before that time.

A couple other officers were assigned to the case, including another to pose as a Vixen and try to make a better impression on Maxmillian, if possible.

When we ran his name, we found out he did have a criminal record, but it wasn’t drastic. Mostly petty theft.

At the end of the day, I resolved to try to quit moping and enjoy the rest of the time I had with Peter Nureyev, limited as it was.

It was easy, slipping back into the girlfriend role, once I’d made up my mind to do that.

I teased him, threw witticisms his way. I spent time at his place, cooked with him, watched streams. He took me out, I showed him my favourite parts of Hyperion City. We did everything that being in a good relationship entailed.

Now that we had said those words, he told me he loved me daily, in so many ways. That included verbally. My heart could burst from the strength of my feelings for him.

As I knew, we were on borrowed time. It turned out, the new undercover officer had an easy time gaining Maximillian's trust. Maybe he just preferred peppy blondes instead of moody redheads.

The officer was able to get into his damn apartment, and got pictures of some of his documents, a vague paper trail tying him to various deals between himself, and other people. She even found evidence for plans of a weapons deal to take place at the very party I’d been invited to. I couldn’t believe it was that easy, after the months I’d spent at Vixen Valley.

I did my best to ignore it, and spent most of my time at work with Peter, Wrendle, or Aria. I wasn’t pulling in too many creds anymore. I didn’t care.

I didn’t care.

At some point, I asked Wrendle to pass my comms info to Buddy and Vespa, just in case they wanted to get in touch, and I received a nice voicemail from them saying they’d love to connect next time they were in Hyperion, but didn’t anticipate it would be too soon. That made me feel a tiny bit better.

Three days before the party (which was also a sting), I asked a favor of Peter.

“Hey, babe,” I said, Peter perked a brow at me. “There’s a favor I have to ask of you.”

“For you, Juno, I would do anything.” I felt like he meant it.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “I have to work on Saturday, but, there’s this midnight book release and signing. It's my brother’s favourite author, but he’s a total loser and he can’t stay up that late because of his studio schedule or workout plan, or whatever,” I explained.

“Yes?” Peter said. I kept smiling.

“Well, its going to be his birthday-well, our birthday I guess, soon. I was wondering if you could go to the midnight release and get the book signed for me? It… will take a while, people usually lineup for a few hours beforehand, but, I know you’re not exactly ‘early to bed', so, I was hoping…” I trailed off. He put his hand on mine.

“My love, what part of ‘I would do anything for you, I would hand you the moon on a string if you asked’ did you not understand? Of course I’ll get a book signed for you, even if I have to stand around for a bit beforehand,” he said.

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thanks, Peter. I love you.”

“And I love you,” he lifted my hand to kiss it. More and more, I wanted to cry every time I looked at him. Thankfully, I didn't.

The night of the party (the sting), I got ready at Peter's place. I told him I was planning on staying the night, and I was going to try to be early, and come home around 1am. He readily agreed, and left me to set the lock at his place. It was the second time I’d left his place after him. It still felt big, that he trusted me in his space without him around. 

I put on my makeup as Dahlia, one final time. I wondered if I would miss seeing this face in the mirror. Probably not. I could always put makeup back on again, if I really wanted to.

I crafted a note for Peter and left it on my pillow. I gathered all of the shit I’d left at Peter's over the duration of our relationship and dropped it off at Rita's on my way to the party I was attending. I didn’t want it back at my place. Not yet.

I was antsy the whole party, mostly spending time with Wrendle. I wanted to get him out of there, because I knew he wasn’t a real criminal. And I knew not all criminals were bad people who deserved to be caught and punished well beyond their crimes in a system that exploited them.

For that reason, at about 12:05, I asked Wrendle to go get some ice and snacks I liked. Thankfully, he was more than happy to do it.

Only a few minutes later, I met up with the other officer posing as a Vixen, and watched as Maximillian ducked into a room with another two people. The other officer had planted a bug on Maximillian's shoulder, like I had done to Buddy. That night felt like years ago.

We both listened to their conversation on our comms, until we had verbal confirmation that they were exchanging some black mark weapons. They were supplying a group of criminals in the Outer Rim. As they were finishing up, we got the signal from our team to start moving.

The other two men exited, and the other officer tailed them. I slipped into the room they’d exited from, standing in front of Maximillian.

“Hey,” I said, “can I have a word with you?” I asked, my hand skimming the hem of my dress. There were a pair of expandable wire handcuffs strapped to my thigh.

“Hey little lady,” he smirked at me, “you’re not supposed to be in here, but whatever. I’m in a generous mood. Say, where’s your boyfriend tonight?”

I pressed my lips together and walked closer to him. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, Max,” I said, mindful of the bug. He perked a brow at me. “Do you mind if I have the floor for a second, though? I have something to tell you that I’ve wanted to say for a while now,” I said. I knew I’d have to move fast, hearing some voices rising outside.

“Go on, then,” he said with a roll of his eyes. I came up to his side and he watched me. I put my hand on his arm, smiling.

In a swift, practiced, movement, I whipped up the wire handcuffs and pulled his arms together as I stepped behind him. The words came out with a snarl,

“You’re under arrest.”

“What?!” I heard him say as I manhandled him forward.

“You have the right to remain silent,” I started, begging him to do so. He was fighting me, though.

“What the fuck?” he said, and I smirked.

“Anything you say can and will-“

“You’re a fucking _cop?_ ” he spat, thrashing just enough that I stumbled on my heels. I knew it was a liability to wear them, but it would be suspicious if I hadn’t. At least he still had his arms behind his back, even as he turned towards me. “Does your _boyfriend_ know, huh, is that why he isn’t here? Were you working together?”

“I told you,” I growled, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” My eyes darted to the door, wondering where my backup was. My stupid outfit didn’t have room for blaster, but I had a square-shaped stunner on my other thigh. I reached for it.

He laughed, manic. “This is fucking rich,” he said.

“Just give it a rest,” I said, moving towards him with the stunner in hand. “As I was saying, anything you say can and will-“ and then, he headbutted me. Getting close might have been a stupid idea, sans backup.

I was sent backwards, tripping over my heels and falling straight on my ass. He laughed, but I heard the door open and someone yell, “Officer Steel is down. We need backup in the right bedroom! Jowns is with him.”

“Why is it always my fucking nose,” I grumbled, holding my face. Moments later, two more HCPD officers piled in.

“Have you been read your rights?” I heard one of the other officers ask Maximillian. The other helped me back on my feet and escorted me out of the room.

Maximillian and his two acquaintances were loaded into cars and I was given ice for my face and my ankle.

I thought about Peter.

It was 1:00am. I imagined he might be done at the book signing by now, arriving home. I imagined him calling to see if I was there yet. I imagined him walking in the bedroom and noticing something was off, it taking him a few minutes to clue in that it was because my stuff was no longer littered about.

Or maybe he’d notice right away, as soon as he entered the door. He was observant, after all. A thief would notice something awry right away.

Either way, he would eventually find the note. I imagined him picking it up, unfolding it carefully. Would his heartrate increase? Would he anticipate something sweet and romantic, or would he know how deeply wrong things had gone?

I imagined him reading it, his eyes taking in every word carefully as his mind swam with thoughts and worries,

_Nureyev,_

_Before anything else, I just want to tell you I’m sorry._

_By the time you read this letter, I’ll be assisting in the arrest of Maximillian Jowns, along with a number of his other ‘business partners’._

_For that reason, I want to urge you to lay low, make yourself scarce. Don’t go back to Vixen Valley. I doubt you’ll be pursued, but the HCPD wants to make the most bang for its buck with this operation, so I don’t think you’re safe, either._

_That being said, I hope you don’t disappear. I would understand if you did. Hell, if I were you, I probably would. Still. I’d like to see you again, if you’re willing. I’ll be at Halcyon Park at 6pm on Saturday._

_If you show, I’ll tell you anything you want to know._

_I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish I could have been someone other than who I was. But, maybe I still have time._

_Yours truly,_

_Juno Steel_

There was a distinct possibility I would never get to know how he reacted when he read my letter. There was a distinct possibility I would never see him again.

\--

As I said I would, I went to Halcyon Park on Saturday and sat on a double-sided bench. I left my hair red, for the time being, not wanting to bother returning it to the deep, deep brown it naturally was.

I stayed there for hours. Nureyev didn’t show up. I couldn’t blame him.

At work, I was getting more accolades than I ever had before. I moved about in a haze as I helped tie up the case, put together evidence. We had the three guys in the meeting pinned, and a few more we now had dirt on thanks to Maximillian’s notes.

It made me feel sick.

The first Friday after I was back at the precinct for good, off the Undercover Stripper Mission, I went up to Captain Khan and said,

“I quit.”

He hummed and hawed about a two-weeks notice, asked me why, especially now, right off such a successful assignment. Wasn’t this what I’d always wanted? To bring down the _real_ bad guys? Maximillian Jowns was a bad guy, after all.

I didn’t have anything to say for myself, and I told him as much. He said, “Okay.” And got out the paperwork for me.

A few minutes later, I was out of his office and at the desk I’d barely touched in months. I found a box, and started to put the few belongings I had there in it. A picture of Benzaiten and I. Some knickknacks Rita couldn’t fit on her own desk. A cheeky mug Mick had bought me.

“Hey, uh, Mistah Steel?” I heard Rita come up to me. I pretended I couldn’t hear her.

I opened the drawers to make sure there wasn’t anything of mine there. I found an old button, some of Rita’s hairpins. I piled them into the box.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” Rita was half-yelling. I opened the second drawer. It was mostly just papers, useless junk. I left it.

“MISTAH STEEL! What are you _doin’_?!” she demanded, and I turned towards her.

“I quit, Rita. I’m packing up my stuff,” I said.

“Oh,” she said. I grimaced at her and opened the last desk, the thin one at the top. There were just a couple other papers in there, and a letter from Sasha I’d forgotten about. I folded it and put it in the box. “Finally!” I heard Rita say, and I glanced at her with a weak glare. I knew _Ben_ wanted me to quit, but it felt a bit different thinking Rita wanted me gone. “Thank _God_ ,” I heard her say. We worked together, for fuck’s sake, why did this make her so damn happy? I didn’t get the chance to ask.

“Hey, uh,” she was turning around. “Captain Khan!” she yelled. He was standing with another officer, talking. He looked at her.

“Yes?”

“I QUIT TOO!” she yelled, then spun at me with a wild smile on her face.

“Uh,” Captain Khan said, “Okay? I guess,” he said.

“What?” I said, “y-you can’t do that.”

“Yes I can! I just did, didn’t you hear me? Help me with my stuff, Mistah Steel, I got a lot more than you,” she said. I was just staring at her, mouth agape.

She found an empty paper box and started plucking stuff from her desk, humming. “I am _so_ glad you finally quit, God I _hate_ it here. You won’t regret it, Mistah Steel.”

“What,” I repeated. “Rita,” I said.

She gasped, “Oh, I have to call the real estate company! I can do that when I get home, though, first things first. Boss, are you gonna _help_ me, or are you just gonna keep standin’ there lookin’ pretty?”

I walked over, feeling numb, and started putting things in Rita’s box with her. “Real estate company? What are you _talking_ about, Rita?” I asked.

“Leave it to me, Mistah Steel, you don’t gotta worry about a thing,” she said. I just shook my head and kept packing her stuff.

After we stopped by the lockers, she ended up with two full boxes stacked together that I was holding, and she took my half-full one.

As I pushed the door open with my back, Rita turned her head and yelled, “Sayonara, suckers!” I laughed deliriously.

She drove me back to her place and we dropped our boxes on the floor.

“Rita, why did you do that?” I asked her, looking at her carefully.

“Well, Mistah Steel,” she said, “you were the only thing I liked about workin’ there. If you were gonna be gone, why would I wanna stay?” she shrugged. I blinked at her.

“Oh,” I said.

“I don’t get along that well with any of the other officers. They say I’m ‘too loud’ and ‘awfully annoying’,” she shrugged her shoulders. I furrowed my brows in anger on her behalf. Rita was a goddamn treasure and by far the best assistant they had there.

“Fuck them,” I said viciously. She just rolled her eyes, smiling in a bemused way. “But… what are you gonna do now?” I asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she pointed out. “I got a couple ideas you might like, though,” she said, grinning. “Let me tell you about them later, boss. For now, we should order something to eat!”

So, I let her order food, and insisted on paying for it. She let us split it evenly as a compromise. Rita put on a movie and we sat on her couch, talking about a different movie that she’d seen recently.

It turned out, Rita had everything planned. She was ten steps ahead of me, as usual. Within the week, she’d set us up with an office and a placard on the door that said _Juno Steel, PI._

“And the best part is,” she said, showing me around the office. “You can’t even say ‘I’m not your boss, Rita!’ anymore,” she mocked my voice, getting it too deep and all wrong. I laughed.

“There’s no way you being my secretary is the best part of this, especially not for you,” I told her.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s having a whole office to spread out in! And to stop getting infractions whenever I leave work early,” she said. I laughed again.

“You are… too good for this world, Rita,” I said softly. She smiled at me.

“Awh, shucks. You could make a gal blush, Mistah Steel,” she said.

“Don’t get used to it,” I told her, and sat on my new chair, in my new office. The chair was only new to me, of course. I still had quite a bit saved up from my stint as an undercover Vixen, sure, but I didn’t want to blow it all right away. 

I told my brother about it. Everything. He was glad I finally left the job, but kept the gloating at a minimum. He had a strength I didn’t understand, to be some humble about that. I was thankful anyway. 

By the end of the month, I already had a case to work on. Along with the office, Rita had some sort of marketing scheme at the ready, getting my name out there.

Even so, I booked off Saturday evening, even during a case. Each Saturday, I went to Halcyon park and waited.

A week and two months from the day I originally said I would be waiting at that park, someone sat on the other side of the bench, facing away from me.

I glanced out of the corner of my eye, but before I even saw him, I heard,

“So... Juno Steel, hm?”

My heart started beating fast, pounding in my chest. 

It was the voice of Peter Nureyev.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks!! quick reminder that this chapter is from Nureyev's POV ;)

The first Saturday, I didn’t even consider going.

How could I? My heart was in fractions. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Rationally, it occurred to me that it was awfully hypocritical for me to fault someone for lying to me about their identity. I changed names with the season, if not more frequently than that. I created entire stories to live in. I kept myself hidden from the world, and the people in it.

That was, until Juno Steel. A lady that I had thought I knew, had deemed worthy of revealing my true self to.

I left Hyperion City the night I got his letter. Even if he hadn’t said it might be unsafe for me, there was no way I could stay there.

For weeks, I turned everything over in my head, every memory of him. I wondered where the line was, between fact and fiction. Who was the real Juno Steel?

I would not know. Not unless I saw him again, anyway. A thing I sorely did and did not want to do.

It killed me, how much I wanted to see him again. I told myself it was for the sake of closure, so I would know for _sure_ who he was, the lady who broke my heart so thoroughly. 

Typically, I was better at lying to myself. Not then. He had woven himself into me, so much so, that when he left, I was torn apart.

One night, a wise bartender told me, a breakup could feel like true grief. It was a devastating loss to experience, they said. No, the person wasn’t dead, but your relationship with them was. They told me I had to let myself feel the bereavement, had to allow myself the space to grieve. I drank instead. 

Of course, I should have never let him so close in the first place. I was stupid, naïve, to think I could trust _anybody_ like that. I knew what could happen when I let someone that close. Had I not experienced this before? This was different, in a way, but not different enough for it to taste any different, as I swallowed what happened in increments.

Still. Despite this, despite everything, my heart longed for him. I missed him dearly. When I shut my eyes, I could see his smiling face. My skin tingled when I remembered what it felt like for him to touch me.

I told myself that wasn’t the reason I returned to Hyperion City, though. I was going because, before, I could never have closure. What happened with Meg, I could never get any more answers about. I made sure of that myself, hadn’t I?

Juno had promised to answer any question I had, so this time, I could have an answer, if I wanted one. And I did want one.

As I walked into Halcyon Park for the first time, I debated with myself, about this desire. It might be better to not know, after all. Would knowing make me feel better?

Unfortunately, this was the sort of eternal, impossible question one could have. Once one had an answer, it was impossible to then go back, if it was actually better _not_ knowing. I couldn’t make a fully informed decision, barring the ability to time travel, of course.

So, the first time I arrived at Halcyon Park, I saw him there. It was a Saturday, 6pm exactly. I wasn’t sure if he’d be there or not, since he hadn’t made it clear if it was just the one Saturday he would be there, or until I showed up. 

I turned around and walked straight out of the park, deciding it was better not to know.

The next weekend, however, I returned. I saw him there, sitting on the same bench. It had two sides. He turned his head away from me, leaned forward, and then sat back.

He looked radiant, as always. My heartrate quickened.

It was either now, or never. I wouldn’t allow myself to return to this place a third time. I either approached him, or I didn’t.

In the end, curiosity won out. Or perhaps it was the remaining love for him, the part of myself who didn’t seem to understand how deeply he had cut the rest of me. I couldn’t be sure.

Approaching from behind, I sat with my back to him. Looking at him would only make it more difficult.

“So,” I sighed. “Juno Steel, hm?”

I heard him shift.

“Nureyev,” he said, voice surprised, hopeful, emotional. I shut my eyes.

“Keep your voice down,” I said. Measured, harsh.

“Right, sorry,” he said, quick but soft. Then, I heard him breath in, and he continued. “I’m _so_ sorry, I can’t say that enough,” he said, heartbreakingly sincere. I frowned deeply.

“As you should be,” I said, a snip to my tone. There was a pause. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, yet, despite preparing no less than three long statements before I arrived. They had flown out the window the moment I heard him speak.

So, he went on. “I’m glad you came,” he said, voice still soft. I could feel him looking at me. I kept my eyes trained ahead.

“Hm,” I said. “I haven’t decided my feelings regarding my presence here tonight, yet,” I told him, tone clipped, guarded.

“That’s fair,” I heard him admit. “I…,” he sighed. “You can see, right? Why I didn’t tell you- I mean, it’s pretty obvious why I wasn’t exactly _truthful_ , about the situation,” he fumbled over his words a bit.

“Yes,” I said. “I can see why you didn’t tell me the whole time we were seeing each other that you were _police officer_ ,” I said. I suppose I _could_ see why he would leave out that pesky little detail, after all. It was always bound to complicate matters between us.

“Yeah,” he said, voice strangled. “I was a cop. That doesn’t mean… It’s not like that means _everything_ was a lie,” he said.

“Oh, no?” I asked. My heart clenched.

“Of course not,” he said, voice just above a whisper, filled to the brim with emotion. “Why would I ask you here, if everything was a lie?” he asked, sounding more desperate than accusatory.

“If only parts were a lie, then, what part was the truth, Juno?” I asked. That was why I was here, anyway, wasn’t it? I wanted to know who the real _Juno Steel_ was.

“I care about you,” he said, sincere, desperate. “Peter,” he whispered, and then his voice got stronger, “I lied about my job, what I was actually doing, but my feelings for you were real. _Are_ real. I,” he breathed in, “I do love you.”

I let that crash over me like a tidal wave, back and forth, for a moment. “Okay,” I said, slowly. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him, because I did. I believed that he loved me. It was hard to reconcile that with who he was, though. “So,” I said, “what? Would you like to be together, Juno? A cop, and a thief?” I asked. “What do we do now?” My voice was sad, tired, and bitter.

“Ex-cop,” he said.

“What?” I asked, looking over at him for the first time. As expected, he was staring at me, his body sideways on the bench, his knees bent and his arms folded over them. A mirror of the pose he took the night I gave him my name.

“I’m not a cop anymore,” he said. “We’d be a thief and an ex-cop,” he said, easily, as if that were obvious, a given.

“Oh,” I said. “Really? When, why?” I asked, my eyes meeting his.

“About a week after my assignment ended,” he said with a shrug. “I was sick of it there, anyway. I fucking hated it, in fact. Benzaiten has been trying to get me to quit for years, even Rita was ecstatic when I did. Though, that was probably because she used me as a reason to quit, too,” he explained. I looked for any evidence of a lie in his eyes, although that hadn’t helped me before. I reasoned that I also hadn’t been looking, before. I’d been completely blindsided by that letter, after all.

“Ah,” I said.

“That assignment,” he went on, “it was designed for me to fail, I’m sure of it. I’m not stripper material,” he said. He gestured towards himself. In hindsight, I had always known he wasn’t nearly as popular as the other Vixens, and I supposed I had liked that about him, deep down. His “job” as I knew it wasn’t something I would begrudge him, but it wasn’t as if I enjoyed the thought of him with other people, either, so it suited me fine that he didn’t get as much work at Vixen Valley. 

“Oh?” I said, anyway, feeling he had more to say about the matter.

“Ugh, one second,” Juno said, “this is stupid, I’m coming over there.” He stood up on the bench, and swung his legs over, one after the other. I watched him with wide eyes, and he joined me on my side. “Anyway, yeah,” he said, turning towards me fully. “As you know, being a stripper is sort of like being a sexy therapist, and I’m not exactly great at the _being a pleasant person to be around_ aspect of that,” he said. Despite myself, I let out a laugh. “I’m a downright abrasive person, it’s not like I don’t know that. So, obviously, I wasn’t meant to be successful on that assignment. They wanted me to fuck up so they could fire me,” he insisted.

“But you were,” I said, “successful, that is. I hear Maximillian Jowns is behind bars right now,” I said. He just grimaced at me.

“Yeah. I still hated it there,” he said. He looked away for a moment and I watched his eyes. They were beautiful. “And I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I see,” I said. We were silent, for a moment. I looked away, but I could tell he was looking at me again. “And what of those strong moral convictions, hm? Just because you’re no longer a cop, I’m to believe you’re unbothered by the thought of dating a criminal?” I asked.

He gave me terse sneer, and then shrugged again. “Please, the HCPD is more corrupt an organization than most groups of criminals. I’ve probably killed, or at least gotten killed, more people than you have,” he said, voice quiet but firm. “I have a strong moral code, sure. You were the one who told me a job didn’t dictate whether one knew right from wrong though,” he said. I had said that, hadn’t I? “I don’t need the law to tell me right from wrong. Never did, and never will. I wasn’t even a good cop,” he said the last part like an afterthought. I looked away from him again.

It was… a lot to take in. I didn’t feel like he was trying to evade my questions, but I didn’t feel like he’d fully answered them, either. My impression was that he was in his own head, wanted to explain it to me, make me see things how he saw them. I understood the impulse, but, still,

“That’s all well, then,” I said. “I am glad you left a job you hated so deeply, Juno, I am. However, I must return to my earlier line of questioning. What now?” I asked.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted. I nodded.

Now, I don’t know where this next statement came from, but I said it nonetheless,

“Run away with me, then,” I said. I looked at him, into his eyes. “If you want to be together, that is,” I said.

He blinked at me, and then looked away. I saw sadness flash in his eyes. “I… I want to,” he said.

“But?” I asked. I wasn’t angry, not trying to pressure. I just wanted to know where we stood.

“My whole life is here,” he said, looking around. “I’ve never left Mars,” he went on, “my brother is here. Rita. Mick, even,” he said.

“Your family,” I supplied. He had one of those, after all. He nodded, then looked at me.

“Is that it, then?” he asked. “If I can’t… leave here. Are we done?” his voice was barely above a whisper.

Despite the fact he’d broken my heart, crushed it to bits, I wanted to kiss away the sadness in his voice. I wanted to hold him, stroke his hair.

“I don’t know,” I said. I couldn’t stay here. I’d been in Hyperion far too long already, trying to work things out with Maximillian, delaying it because I’d fallen in love with a Vixen and I wasn’t sure how to ask him to leave with me the first time around, either. I took in a deep breath. I told him as much, saying, “I can’t stay in Hyperion. I’ve been here longer than I’d planned.”

He looked down, I saw him squeeze his eyes shut, fighting back tears. He nodded. After all of this, was I going to be the one to break his heart right back? It wasn’t as if it was undeserved, of course, but I still didn’t want to do it. Two wrongs never did make a right.

We sat there for another few minutes. I looked away. “I guess that is it, then,” I said, slowly. Sadly. As if coming to the realization that there was no way forward. “Goodbye, Juno Steel,” I started, “despite everything, it was good to know you,” I went on. I started to stand.

“Wait,” I heard his voice, felt his hand grab my arm. I sat back down. “No,” he said. His voice was steady despite the tears in his eyes.

“No?” I asked. I wondered if he was about to say he would come with me after all. I wondered if he was about to beg me to stay.

“No,” he said again. “This isn’t it. It can’t be it,” he took in a shaky breath, staring up to me with those eyes of his. “I won’t let it be,” he said. Despite myself, I bent down and kissed him. He kissed me back, his hand coming to my cheek and keeping me close.

I laughed after we parted. It was a sad sound. “Juno,” I said, voice broken. Not as badly as my heart. “What now, then?” I repeated. 

“We just,” he huffed, “we make it work. You… come back, when you can. I take time off from my job and come visit you in the places you always wanted to take me. I’m my own boss now anyway. We just-“ he looked down, laced our fingers together, firm. “We make it work, Peter. We try to make it work,” he said. “We should at least try,” he finished, voice quiet again. I lifted my free hand to wipe a tear from Juno’s face, then rested my hand back on my own knee.

I considered it, as I looked at him. It wasn’t as if it would be incredibly difficult to stay in touch. Comms did exist, and long-distance relationships were not a new invention. I mulled it over. Meanwhile, I asked,

“You’re your own boss, you say?”

“Oh, right,” he said. “Yeah, uh. I’m a private investigator, now,” he laughed. “It was Rita’s idea. I like it, so far. Better than the HCPD, anyway,” he added.

“Oh,” I said. We were quiet for a moment. He squeezed my hand, and I looked down between us. “Okay,” I said, looking up at him.

“Okay?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I agree,” I clarified. “We should try, at least,” I said. I wasn’t sure if it was foolish. He’d hurt me once already, after all. But. Should I not believe in second chances? He seemed truly remorseful, and I did love him so.

“Really?” he breathed, and I watched his eyes, swimming with adoration and hope. I never wanted to see that glint leave his eyes again. I nodded. He kissed me.

I kissed him back. I felt him move towards me, and we pulled back at the same time. It occurred to me he might have been about to climb into my lap. It was second nature for us, after all.

He confirmed as much. “I, uh, was going to climb into your lap, but then I remembered we’re in a public park.”

“Probably best to leave that behaviour behind closed doors,” I teased. It seemed too simple, too easy. It felt unfathomable that it could just be okay, after all that. Maybe it could be, though.

I would only know if I let us try. That, I was fully prepared to do.

With that, I suggested that he take me home, this time around. He smiled.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, then leaned in close, so only I could hear, and whispered, “ _Peter Nureyev_. _”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who read, gave kudos, and left nice comments!!!


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